Operation: Go Home
by Shock Factor
Summary: You tell someone from 2015 that aliens will rule the world by 2016, they'll call you a liar. You tell someone from 2020 that XCOM will rise up to fight said aliens, they'll call you a liar. You tell XCOM that a bunch of teenagers are gonna be their only hope of survival, they'll most likely shoot you after calling you a liar.
1. Chapter 1

_Journal Entry, March 28th, 2035._

 _Sergeant Adam Quincy Jones, Sharpshooter, Menace Team._

 _You know... life really sucks._

 _Now, before you lay into me for complaining, hear me out. Life bloody sucks. This is coming from a veteran of the Old War, the one that lasted all of 3 blessed months. Sure, this is better than living under Advent's heel, but goddammit, it's not by much. Food's even harder to come by, half the men we're training with are wet blanket cunts, batshit crazy, or stupid kids. Sometimes, you get one of those ones that's all of the above, like Walker. That fuckin' idiot doesn't know his arse from his elbow. Luckily, Central's made sure word of mouth about yours truly gets around, so I get my due respect... and my fair share of getting mocked as 'gramps' or 'daddy' or something of the like._

 _Not my fault I've been kicking alien ass since some of those twats have been in diapers. Chief Engineer Shen was a wee tadpole when the world officially went to shit, I remember it like it was yesterday. God, I miss Raymond, thinking about it. He always took care of us grunts. And even Vahlen had her moments of brilliance- even though it wasn't her specialty, she made a point of checking in with the head of Medical whenever someone was interred._

 _Up until today, we never had closure on Vahlen. But as of today, we just might._

 _You see, about two weeks ago, we found the crash site of an old friend. The old Skyranger. Big Sky was nowhere to be found, but there was no signs of a struggle there, either. Maybe he got out. But that wasn't what caught us by surprise. What DID was that these guys had contact with Vahlen. RECENT contact. As in, a day before. We got some loot out of it, but... I'm still worried. Things are getting worse on my-OUR end. We need Vahlen more than ever. That's why I'm so glad we intercepted her signal. She sent out some sort of... distress call or something. We triangulated the position of it, but... God, I hope she's alive._

 _I see very little hope for XCOM if she isn't. Bradford's pinning everything on this. He isn't saying so, but I can see it in his eyes. It was something of an open secret that he was close to the woman, although how anyone can be close to that prickly bitch is beyond me. No one's had the heart to tell him this is probably a lost cause, besides Tygan. Never thought I'd approve of that little quisling, but for once he has a point. Didn't stop Bradford from chartering this mission himself. He's got the best of the best. Lieutenant MacAuley, myself, Corporal Nikos, and Private Delacroix._

 _Anyway, the El-Zed's up ahead. I'll update when this is over._

* * *

It was a surprise to no one that Bradford insisted on being the first one out of the Skyranger's door. No one was thrilled about the man taking the field, especially because, since the Commander was locked up in his office all day, that meant Bradford was for all intents and purposes, in charge of XCOM's day to day operations. Adam was the least thrilled of them all- at this point, it seemed Bradford was shaping up to be his only friend. Sure, he and Shen were cordial, but Bradford was the one anchor he had back to the Old World, back before things went to hell. Adam had volunteered for this mission the moment he heard Vahlen's name because he knew more than anyone that Bradford would go running like mad. Everything else just fell into place.

Adam looked back to his squad- he'd worked with MacAuley back at the start of the revived XCOM- _with Jane,_ he added with a mental kick in the ribs- when the team was assigned with smacking down an ADVENT convoy. It didn't go all according to plan, but MacAuley had managed to make it work. He was a master at pulling people together, even if they really, REALLY didn't want to BE together. The Aussie'd taken to wearing a pinned up boonie hat, lined with bullets. He said it just felt comfortable, plus he 'had to make it glaringly obvious to everyone on Earth that I'm Australian'. It definitely looked right on him, even if the camo looked silly. Black and grey.

Behind him, Alexios Nikos and Declan Delacroix checked their weapons, with Declan drawing one of the axes they'd found from the Big Sky wreck. Ugly, but Declan'd been training with them for the past week, day in and day out. He could use them consistently now, he said. In the meantime, Adam noted that Alexios looked nothing like he'd expected him to.

"Thought you'd be shorter," he said, vocalizing the thought conservatively. Considering that Adam was 6 foot even, he wasn't used to be looked down at, but the 6'4" Greek managed it.

"I get that a lot," came the equally conservative reply. The specialist brushed past him, calling up his Gremlin- Murphy called it HAV-C, or "Havoc"- to scan the area. "I'm not getting anything unusual," he said. "Got a lot of snakes crawling around, but... other than that, nothin'."

"Whaddya think's up with that?" Declan asked," I ain't never seen this many damn snakes in all my days."

"I dunno, that's what we're here to find out."

As Firebrand closed up the door and the squad formed up, Tygan made contact via HAV-C. _"Biological readings in this area are... erratic, Central. In addition to multiple species of alien fau-"_

Bradford threw up his fist, causing the squad to stop dead in their tracks. "Hold on, Doctor. We've got something."

Alexios stepped aside, looking down as Bradford walked forward. "Yep. PDA. Looks like an older model. Like, 2020s old. This body..."

The PDA crackled to life, albeit only displaying static and shoving out distorted audio. A woman's voice, urgently ordering someone to get the hell out of dodge, and take some important data with them, straight to Bradford.

"Vahlen," Adam muttered under his breath, looking over at the Central Officer, while the other three men simply looked at the cave ahead. Adam couldn't blame them for not being that concerned. They'd never met Vahlen, wouldn't recognize her if they saw her. Other than this mission, it was a safe bet they'd never would have had anything to do with her in their entire lives. There was more pertinent matters at hand, however- what data could she possibly be holding onto? Old XCOM records? Intel she'd collected after the war? Something else entirely? Nobody was sure, but all 5 were just about ready to find out.

 _"I had hoped to meet my predecessor under less extreme circumstances."_ Tygan interrupted. _"Still, I have tracked her signal to an area not far ahead._ "

"Right. Let's do this, team."

Bradford pocketed the PDF, and motioned the team forward, minding the gap as the small outcropping they landed on fell off into a dusty, sandy metal landing pad. It hadn't been used in a fair amount of time, considering the state of disarray, but... ADVENT would have been more thorough. They wouldn't have left bodies, let alone skeletal remains with sensitive data on them. Something happened inside this cave, that much was obvious, including the sight of the big loading bay doors leading to some sort of dimly lit chamber... and a pair of Vipers wielding strange, crossbow-like weapons.

"Aren't those..." Declan started, looking over at Alexios, who was carrying a similar weapon himself.

"What was this 'Vahlen' doing here, Central?" the Greek asked, quietly, lining up a shot on one of the Vipers.

"I don't know, but we need to find out. Adam."

Adam raised his sniper rifle, taking aim at the second Viper. "Hit it on 3. 1. 2."

With that, a loud burst of compressed air, followed by a loud bang from the sniper rifle, and the two Vipers were sent flailing back, one of them pinned to the wall by the bolt from the new weapon, while the other's brain matter was currently painting a small wall panel that was once upon a time a door control.

"Well, that woke the neighborhood," Declan stated conservatively, breaking away from the group and headed towards the chamber past the now-dead Vipers, the rest of the squad trailing behind him.

"Hopefully there isn't much further resistance. It's strange that it's just Vipers around here-"

"And snakes. Look," Alexios interrupted the Central Officer, pointing at the small diamondback currently writhing under his boot.

A loud hiss determinedly NOT from Alexios' new friend rang through the cavern, followed by a low, echoing chorus of hissing from further in the cave.

"Oh, _bugger_ ," Adam muttered, diving behind a large set of canisters and looking up at the holographic displays that provided the only light in the room. "What the bloody hell are these? A Berserker, a Viper, and... what even is that thing?"

"Tygan's trying to upload Vahlen's logs that were on that PDA. Until they come through, we've got no idea what's going on," Bradford responded. "In cover, now!"

Alexios set up behind a small window, patting HAV-C reassuringly as Declan took to the wall next to him, peeking just over the threshold into the cave itself.

"Hey, Central! That there is a LOT of snakes!"

"About to be _none_ ," retorted Murph, who stood up next to Adam, propping the base of his rotary cannon on the canisters, aiming down the cave at the source of the noise. "Adam and I will keep an overwatch here- Central, you take Lex and Dec and move in, try to draw them into our line of fire. Adam, head to that door on the other side and get ready!"

Adam nodded. Murphy was a soldier, like Adam himself, and he carried himself like one even in a confusing, intel-dark situation like this. No wonder Hitman Team spoke so highly of him. As he bolted for the other side, sliding behind a computer terminal and raising his rifle, he could already see Vipers crawling out of the walls. He'd finally noticed what was unusual about them, besides the obvious weaponry. They were *tiny*, and their scales looked... smooth. As if they were molting. As if they were...

"Central! These snakes are tinkers!" Adam shouted over.

"Say again?"

"These Vipers aren't fully grown!"

"Why the hell would they not be?" Declan asked, grabbing one of the axes on his back and clipping his shotgun to the mag strap on his belt.

"I don't know, but they're still a threat. Let's clean 'em up, team." Bradford seemed unfazed by the revelation, shocking no one, and simply opened fire, with Alexios following suit behind him. Declan ran out into the corridor, disappearing from Adam's sight, although he could hear the sound of a heavy blade burying into flesh, followed by a shotgun blast, and the panicked rasp of dying Vipers. Murph's cannon roared to life just as Declan entered Adam's view, hoisting an axe over his head and flying at one of the Vipers on his side, burying the axe deep into the alien's skull. Adam fired a round, managing to fell a hostile that was attempting to flank the Ranger, while Declan himself, unable to free his axe from the skull of the Viper in time to face the next one, simply threw his spare axe like a tomahawk, impaling a Viper through the chest with a crunch of bone giving way under the weighted blade.

"Jesus, they're comin' in hot!" Declan shouted, finally managing to dislodge the nearest axe before pulling out his shotgun and firing a blast just out of Adam's view. The firing was still hot on Murph's side, although Alexios and Bradford had already broken off, and Murph was starting to advance into the cave itself. It was probably a good time to move in, so Adam did, drawing his pistol and running forward, just in time to confront a gaggle of Vipers trying to slink through what appeared to be a makeshift research lab in the center of the cave. Adam fired his pistol at one, sending it flopping lifelessly to the side, while Declan gave another a shotgun blast that sent it crashing back through the window it was slinking out of. Alexios' bolts pinioned another to the wall, while Bradford, sword in hand, neatly decapitated one at a full sprint, before jumping into a flying boot to another, which he followed up by burying his blade in its head. The last Viper burst out from the doorway behind him, only to be lit up by the entire fireteam at once.

And then it was completely silent in the cave.

"... yeesh," Declan finally spoke up, walking over to his other axe, still embedded in the chest of the Viper he'd slain, making a grand show of stomping and kicking at the damn thing to dislodge it. Annoyed, Murph went to assist him, the two men jerking the blade out with a spray of greenish-yellow viscera. "Ah, fuck!"

"Wuss."

"Shut up, Murph, you're an outbacker, you prolly bathe in your own shit."

Adam spun his pistol around his finger before holstering it, approaching a very frustrated Alexios and an equally worried Bradford. "What's going on?"

"Tygan can't get the damn logs. There's some kind of interference coming from deep inside the cave. There's temperature distortions down there, too. Think, we're in the middle of the Sonora Desert, right?" Alexios explained, pointing at the LED screen on HAV-C. "Well, here's the thing. Part of the cave we're in now? It's naturally a bit colder due to the shade. About 85 degrees. About 20 yards in? Below _fuckin'_ freezing. It's not a glitch, either. Tygan's picking it up too on the remote scan. Something's fucking with all of our systems in here."

"Well, let me play the devil's advocate here. What if it really is that cold?" Bradford asked.

"Then I don't know what sort of feat of scientific gymnastics had to occur to make that happen," replied Alexios, "and I'm not exactly thrilled to find out. We have no signs of those things in the atrium here. What if they're further down the cave?"

"That would make sense. Cold storage. Maybe they're just cadavers in cold storage..."

 _"Central! I've managed to decode one of Vahlen's audio logs. I'm going to send the playback now._ "

 _"- this is truly astonishing! This specimen doesn't seem to require physical nourishment of any kind, but seems instead to feed off of... I'm not sure. When presented with prey, it will still attack them, and be sated after the kill, but it has yet to physically consume anything. This is also interesting in regards to their unique physiology- the specimen appears to be in some sort of half-space between solid and gas, yet not a liquid, apart from this bony armor making up part of its physiology. This armor has proven impervious to all but Subject Alpha's attempts to damage it, and even then, it's proven an even match for Subject Alpha when in close combat. I b- wait. Why is... Collins, get away from that-!"_

The assembled team turned to look at each other in unison, then further down the cave.

"I'm not goin' down there," Declan stated, taking a few steps back.

"Yes, you are," Adam replied, grabbing him by the arm.

"I'm... _goin' down there..._ "

"Reload your weapons and stay on your toes. It sounds like whatever this thing is, it's a tough son of a bitch. If it's still here... we're gonna have a hell of a fight."

 _"Central! I'm picking up a signature matching Dr. Vahlen's own further into the cave, around the epicenter of the sub-zero pocket in the cave. Be advised- I'm detecting at least one life form moving rapidly around the area- too rapidly to be a human."_

"Oh, lovely." Adam looked over at Bradford. "Well, Central?"

"Follow me."

Say what you may about Bradford, but if the man was gonna order you to your death, he was gonna march there with you.

* * *

By the time they reached what once was supposed to be some sort of enclosure, save for the fact all the glass was broken and the damn thing was covered from top to bottom in dead Vipers and _ice_ , the team's nerves were about fried. And that was BEFORE they started hearing the hissing.

"Well, it looks like the Viper's still here," Bradford whispered. "Nikos, Delacroix. Left side of the window. Adam, you and I will wait on the right. MacAuley, get ready to put a grenade in there."

The Aussie maglocked his cannon to his back, grabbing his Grenade Launcher and cocking the contraption before taking a knee and bracing it. "Ready."

"Let's go."

Adam followed Bradford to their waiting point on the ledge, the two elder statesmen watching the icy hellscape. A single skeletal form lay in the middle of the small enclosure, holding what appeared to be a PDA.

"Is that..." Bradford started.

 _"I'm unable to identify at this range."_

"Right... So, we have to go in there. Let's move. Murphy, see that small plateau, here? I want you on top of it."

"Got it!" the Aussie replied, only to visibly flinch at the deafening sound of a loud, shrill shriek, and the sound of ice breaking under _something_. "What the-"

"Get in position!"

Murphy scrambled to climb up the raised rocks as the rest of the team spread out around the wall of the enclosure, ducking behind stones in an attempt to conceal themselves from whatever was going on. All they could do now was observe as the hissing grew louder, and much closer to them.

"If you see it... light it up."

They saw it, alright. Specifically, Adam and company watched in awe as the Viper from the display was thrown sailing through the air, landing a bloody, battered mess a few yards ahead of the squad. Following right after it was a... _mass_ of black in the vague shape of some sort of canine, but standing upright, like the mythical werewolf. It charged the fallen Viper, pinning it to the floor as it struggled to fire off bursts of icy air from its throat, freezing the arm of the thing assaulting it, before said thing shattered its own arm as if it were just an everyday routine. Sans one arm, it continued to hold down and tear at the Viper until it stopped its resistance... and then proceeded to look right at the squad, growling lowly before letting out a loud, piercing howl.

"What the FUCK IS THAT!?" Declan shouted.

"PUT A GRENADE ON IT! NOW!" Bradford ordered.

A puff of smoke, and a frag grenade arced through the air, smacking directly into the face of the black beast, which proceeded to completely ignore the fact that it had just been slapped in the face with a grenade, and roared again directly at Murph, who seemed equally undeterred on the exterior (although Adam highly doubted the man wasn't about to piss himself.). Declan fired the whole tube of shells from his shotgun at it, obviously hitting, but nothing was really happening, the beast was only getting angrier, and turning its attention to Declan.

"Keep hitting it while it's confused!" Bradford commanded, breaking off to the right to draw its attention, headed straight into the middle of the ice. He motioned to Alexios and Adam, and while the latter seemed to instinctively run towards the big beast before turning on his heel and running back towards Murph's perch, Adam wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. His eyes darted between Alex, the beast, the body in the center of the enclosure, the Viper attempting to slither awa-

The Viper was still moving!?

* * *

 _Far from Sonora, Arizona_

Remnant

Strange things happen on Remnant. Such is life. This was an established fact amongst the general population, and especially amongst huntsmen/huntresses in training such as Team JNPR.

Seeing a random purple tear in the air in front of him was probably the second strangest thing Jaune had seen in his entire life. And he'd seen VERY strange things in his 16 years on Earth. It bears repeating, this was the second strangest thing on that very, very, very long list. Especially when he heard what sounded like gunfire, men screaming at each other, and a Grimm. He'd called a team huddle almost immediately after seeing this, leaving JNPR to examine the anomaly as a unit.

"Can I-"

"Absolutely not," interrupted Ren, stepping just between Nora and the purple thing for emphasis. Weird how those two were so in tune with each other.

"You guys hear it too, right? The gunfire? And I'm pretty sure that's a Beowulf on the other end."

Pyrrha nodded. "It seems like it. So, what should we do?"

"We should touch it!"

"Nora!"

Jaune sighed. "We don't even really know what it is. For all we know it could be just like... I dunno, like, maybe like a recording? We can't interact with it, but we can listen to it?"

"Then by the time we figure out where these people are, they could be dead. Nora-" Ren grabbed Nora's wrist out of midair, just short of her brushing her finger against the edge of the anomaly, which rippled slightly around her finger.

"So, it's a tangible thing?" Jaune reached out himself, more towards the black center of the anomaly, which proceeded to spread open around his fist, revealing SOMETHING on the other side. A cave, covered in ice, and what appeared to be a Beowulf, which was now turning its head towards them. "And... it's two way, it's two way, two way!"

 _"What the fuck's goin' on over there!?"_ someone shouted.

 _"It sounds like someone's sayin' something!"_

 _"OI! DON'T COME IN HERE! THERE'S A BIG BLOODY WOLF-THING-"_

"Alright, that seems to settle this then. Let's see what we can do." interrupted Pyrrha, attempting to push into the purple mist and promptly disappearing in a flash of light.

"NOW can I touch it!?" Nora asked, indignant.

Ren sighed aloud, shaking his head morosely. "I suppose we don't have much choice. Let's go."

Jaune was the next one to go in, light flashing in his eyes as he suddenly felt... _light_. Like he was made of air, before suddenly crashing back into a solid state in the middle of a bone-cold cave. The Beowolf was right in front of him, not too far from where it appeared to be from the other side of the purple thing. He heard it again, twice, the flashes of light at his back indicating that Nora and Ren made it through, before the purple light over his shoulder completely disappeared.

"It closed!" Nora shouted, turning away from the very pertinent threat in front of them.

"That's... not good."

"Don't worry about it for now. Let's focus on what's in front of us!" Pyrrha turned to the group of men that must have been the source of the shouting earlier. "We're here to help!"

"Crucified CHRIST, woman, what are you WEARING!?" one of the men, a tall blonde clad in black and a small stocking cap, shouted, pointing directly at Pyrrha with his free hand as he kept his pistol trained on the startled Beowolf.

"Is something wrong?"

"Just shut up and kill that thing!" one of the men, a grizzled-looking old fellow with a sword on his back, ordered, and the other four men's attentions focused on the Beowolf. Evidently, he was the one in charge around here. "Bullets don't hurt it!"

"This will!" Nora shouted gleefully, Manghild shifting into its grenade-launcher form in her hands as she took aim at the Beowolf.

"Bloody FUCK THUNDER, Central, I want one of those!" a man in camouflage shouted. "Wait, where's the-"

"Focus!"

As Nora let a carpet barrage of grenades fly, the man in camouflage whipped a large minigun off of his back and began firing at the creature to divert its attention, the combined firepower from the two heavy weapons staggering the creature long enough for the man with a pistol to line up a shot with the rather large revolver. "Someone put another grenade on it!"

"'nade out!" cried another one of the shooters, a man in stark white armor with a pair of hefty axes on his back, as he pitched a grenade like the world's deadliest baseball in the general direction of the Grimm, landing right beside the beast. The explosion did some damage, but this Beowolf was obviously a bit older and tougher than most- its armor wasn't even cracking under the punishment it was suffering.

"Hey, Pyrrha! I think we're gonna need to get closer!"

"Right!"

"Why the FUCK are you guys using swords and shields!?" Grenade Guy asked, seemingly ignorant to the hypocrisy inherent in his statement, as he had his hand one one of his huge axes.

A man with what appeared to be an odd, sideways crossbow nodded to them, motioning for the little hovering robot next to him to fly at the Beowolf, letting out short arcs of electricity and causing the Grimm to swat after it, intent on bringing it down to the ground.

"D!" the man shouted, and Grenade Guy- err, 'D', ran in, pulling one of his axes off his back and leaping into the air, burying the weapon into the armored head of the Beowolf, who responded by turning with its good arm and attempting to tear him open with its claws. His target was surprisingly nimble for a man his size- he leaned back, barely avoiding the claws as he drew the second axe and let out a war cry as he smashed a second, two-handed swing into the neck of the Grimm, a trail of black ichor flying alongside the blade.

"That looked like it hurt! Keep it comin'!" the commander ordered, and D quickly dove out of the way of another strike, his axe sticking to his back with a loud _click_ as he removed his shotgun from its place on his back, and began firing while backpedaling towards JNPR. Well, if that wasn't a call to action...

"Hit it!" D shouted, and Pyrrha immediately complied, sending her shield flying into the face of the Beowolf, dislodging the axe stuck there as the Grimm howled, shaking its head and resuming its pursuit of D. While the aforementioned soldier turned on his heels, drawing his axe with one hand while holding his shotgun in the other, Jaune went in, sliding to a stop with his shield up as the Grimm took a wild swing downward, slamming harmlessly into Jaune's shield and cracking the ice below their feet. D jumped in once more, firing a single shot from his shotgun and giving a wide, spinning slash with his axe, before dropping to the ground to avoid being sent flying by the Grimm's backhand. Taking the opportunity presented by the creature turning, Jaune rose to his feet, and plunged Crocea Mors into its back, the Grimm's evil essence quickly starting to ebb as it dropped to its knees, and fell to the cave floor in front of D, who proceeded to drop his head, laying on the icy cave floor.

"Hoooooly capital f-u-c-k, weirdos," he half-gasped, grasping for his axe and placing it against his chest. "Oh, lord, I'm dead. I'm somehow dead and all y'all beat me to hell. Or worse yet, you're part of my punishment."

"Funny," Camo muttered, looking over the kids. "The fuck are you doin' 'ere?"

"We were in the Emerald Forest on a mission, and we saw that purple cloud thing just sitting there. We heard gunfire, and figured we should help you guys out," Jaune explained, only to be met with raised eyebrows, and the man shifting his gun towards them.

"Hey, hey, hey, Murph- they're human."

"Stupid humans. Who the fuck comes into a combat zone wearing a keyhole top or god forbid, a bloody corset?" Pistol Guy asked, pointing firmly at Pyrrha. "And what the fuck even are those weapons- that shield mess, the fuck was that?"

"I literally do not give a SINGLE shit, because that was some SICK business right there," D interjected, kipping up to his feet with axes in hand. He holstered the ungainly weapons before grabbing his shotgun off the ground. "Y'all rude as hell, not even giving these people an introduction before you start pointing guns at them. I'm Private Declan Jean-Robillard Delacroix, but you can just call me Declan."

Declan pointed at Pistol Man. "The crumpet-eating assclown with the fixation on your combat attire, or lack thereof, is Sergeant Adam Jones."

"Fuck off."

"No, you."

Camo raised a hand, sighing. "Right. I'm Captain Murph MacAuley. The boss man over there is Central Officer John Bradford. Lad over there with the drone and the bolt gun? That's Corporal Alexios Nikos."

"Pardon?" Pyrrha looked over at 'Alexios.'

"What, you never met a Greek?"

"No, that's just... an odd coincidence."

"What's an odd coincidence?"

"Well," Jaune spoke up, stepping a bit forward, "she's Pyrrha Nikos."

The soldiers all looked at Alexios, with Murph making a slight jerk of the head towards Pyrrha.

"Completely coincidence. It's not that uncommon of a last name. You know, 'Nike'? Goddess of Victory? Nikas, Nikos, Nikones, et cetera, et cetera..." Alexios explained, before turning back to Pyrrha herself. "Santorini. You?"

"I have no idea what you're referring to."

"You're not from Greece?"

"I... don't know what that is."

The man raised an eyebrow, cutting his eyes at Murph, who simply shrugged. "What abouts the rest of ya?" Murph asked.

"I'm Jaune Arc."

"Hi! I'm Nora! And this here is Ren."

"Greetings."

Bradford grabbed something off of a frozen corpse in the center of the room, holding a hand to some sort of earpiece before looking over at the team. "It's not Vahlen!"

"Shite!" Adam cursed, punching his thigh. "Now what?"

"I wanna find out where that fuckin' corpse went. Look," Declan called, pointing at the now-empty space that the Beowolf occupied. "Gone! Without a trace!"

"Grimm dissipate upon death," Ren explained, looking over at the Central Officer. "Your men don't already know this?"

"The hell's a 'Grimm', son?"

JNPR and the team of soldiers looked at each other in silence for what Jaune could have sworn was an eternity and a half. This was... strange. Portal in the middle of the woods takes them to a random ice cave, with a bunch of guys using guns and primitive melee weapons against a Grimm, which they don't even know what it is. None of them had very normal names, none of them looked normal- all of them had to at least be in their late twenties to early thirties, on top of the drab palettes and general seeming lack of... Aura. Were they in some kind of foreign country or something?

"Hey, uh, where exactly are we?" Jaune put voice to one of the many questions in his head.

"The middle of the Sonora Desert, in Arizona. United States. "

"The where, the what, and the United Huh?" Nora piped in.

"Okay, let's try this from a different angle of approach. Where are _you_ from?"

"I'm from Vale," Jaune answered.

"The three of us are from Mistral," Pyrrha added, pointing behind her at Ren and Nora.

"Never heard of either of those places. You guys?" Declan asked.

"No bells ringing here," Alexios replied.

"Nothing. We'll figure this out, but, until we do, you four are coming with us," Bradford stated, which caused Adam and Murphy's heads to snap towards him.

"John, what the-"

"Adam, these kids have no idea where they are, and are currently in the middle of the desert. We can't just let them sit here. We're going to bring them back to the Avenger and find a way to get them back home, but until then, they're our guests. We'll make sure they're fed and taken care of at Grace's Peak. Clear?"

"... not gonna take a 'no' on this?"

"That's a negative."

Adam rolled his eyes with a loud, heaving sigh. "Wonderful. Alien whips out a psionic portal, and out comes the first bloody babysitting job I've had in 30 years. I love my job. Love it, love it, love it."

Murphy harrumphed before slinging his gear back over his shoulder. "Kids can have our seats, Central."

"Hey, hey, hey, I did NOT volunteer to stand up after this-" Declan started, striding over to Bradford with fire in his eyes.

* * *

 _Journal Update_

 _As my American 'friend' would put it, what in the jumping jungle monkey FUCK just happened?_

 _We go into a bloody cave, full of Vipers barely up to my neck, the cave's bloody freezing cold and full of dead bodies and ice, and then this 'Grimm' or whatever it's bloody called just takes a SHIT all over one of Vahlen's apparent 'test subjects,' damn near kills the thing before turnin' on us. If it wasn't for that bunch of kids we'd be dead. A bunch of KIDS. I don't know how in fuck all we're supposed to deal with this mess. We don't have the facilities or the manpower to babysit a bunch of kids..._

 _...unusually large and semi-anachronistic armaments nonwithstanding..._

 _Whatever the case, I'll have to cut this entry short. There's a little ginger monkey pretty much jumping over my shoulder trying to see what I'm writing. Will finish my recap of the day's events tonight._

 _Note to self: lock the fucking door._


	2. Chapter 2

The trip on the aircraft was relatively... quiet. It was obvious no one other than Nora was huge on the idea of talking, and she was silently rebuffed by the rest of the military guys on board. It didn't take long- maybe 3 hours of flight to get where they were going. When they landed, Bradford motioned to them, then pointed his thumb back out the door. "The Commander will be waiting on the deck with your temporary arrangements. Once that all gets settled, and you pack your things away, get changed, find your way to the bar. I'll get you something to drink, something to eat, and we can see about where we need to go to get you home."

"Thank you, uh, Mr. Central Officer. Sir." Jaune had never really dealt with the military, so this was kind of nerve-wracking. Sure, with his Aura up, the bullets wouldn't hit that hard, but yeesh. These guys took stuff really, really seriously.

"Central will do, Jaune."

With that, the loading gate for the ship opened, and standing not five feet away in the shade was a woman in faded, beat-up khakis and a shirt with a strange, bright blue pentagon on the front. Her hair was jet black with a few streaks of grey, her face was slightly creased, and she overall looked like a woman who wasn't so much old as simply worn out by time. Flanking her were two men, one of whom had at least half a foot on Jaune, and the other who stood about at Pyrrha's level. The taller was wearing a huge orange vest, with no sleeves, revealing massive, tattooed arms that could crush Jaune's head like a cranberry. Any attempt at looking at his face were obscured by his large, completely closed helmet. He seemed to be carrying a cannon much like Murph's. The other man was still quite striking, though not as much so- his hair was a dirty blond, slicked back heavily and slightly wet, with a thick beard that was slightly darker than the hair. He wore a pure, royal blue suit of body armor, and carried an equally blue assault rifle. His eyes met Jaune's, and he nodded. Jaune nodded back.

"You were expecting trouble, Commander?" Bradford asked as he motioned for the kids to head off first.

"Course not, Central. Just gotta take precautions. Hope the ride wasn't too bad for ya, kids."

"We're just fine, thank you," Pyrrha spoke up, stepping off the ship first. As she started to walk, so too did the large man in orange, who stepped in between her and the woman who'd spoken.

"Your weapons, si'l te plait." His voice was somewhat garbled, with a staticky edge- he must have a microphone in his helmet.

"Pardon?"

"I said, your weapons, madame. Until we get you off of here, we're holding on to them."

"Sir, I don't believe that's necessary."

"With all due respect, madame, I don't give a shit."

"Heeeeeeeeeew! Big Sexy's got a chip on his shoulder today!" Declan called from back in the aircraft, while Jaune watched, his whole body tensing up at the thought of a fight already breaking out.

"Phillipe," the Commander chided him, "try explaining that in a way that doesn't make you look like a prick."

The other man stepped forward. "Listen, miss, we don't know anything about you or where you're from. Until we get some solid information and some proof that you're not working against us, we'll see about you keeping your weapons. Right now, we just need to be safe. We're gonna take care of them, even have our tech and engineering folks give them a touchup."

"Oui," Phillipe agreed.

Pyrrha nodded, handing the weapons to the other man, who gave her a wan smile and looked over to the others. "You guys too. Sorry."

"It's fine," Jaune replied, stepping off the ship and taking Crocea Mors off his hip. "We won't be causing you guys too much trouble... hopefully."

"Man, I do NOT like the sound of that." That managed to get a small chuckle out of the man as he took the sword and shielth combo and locked it to his back. "Holy SHIT this is heavy. How do you walk around with this?"

"It takes getting used to."

"Fuck me."

Nora was reluctant to part with Manghild, but Ren managed to coax her into handing Phillipe the hammer, and Ren followed by turning in Stormflower, warning Phillipe to mind the bayonets. The big guy proceeded to just slap them in his holsters anyway, cutting said holsters open at the hip, which led to a chuckle from the Commander and the man in blue.

"Thanks, kids. Sorry, but the men wouldn't be comfortable knowing complete strangers are running around with a bunch of guns and knives. The big jerk is Sergeant Phillipe Richard, and the gentleman to my left is Private Roderick Braddock. I'm Commander Grace Cheng. Welcome to the Avenger, our little home in the sky. Try not to get sick."

"Wait, the sky!?" Jaune yelped.

"Oh, _no_ ," Roderick muttered. "Should we go ahead and get the bucket?"

"We're not taking off till tonight, Rod. He'll be fine for now."

"Right, ma'am."

"Anyway, yeah, this is an airship with very limited space. We have a cleared space on the airship for troops and personnel, thanks to conversions we've done. There's room for 50 beds total- 50 for the troops, 25 for the crew, and we've only got 30 men and women on call. Nevertheless, we want you supervised for a little while, so for now we're gonna have you rooming with some of our regulars. You'll be meeting them in the bar once you change. Go ahead and head to the barracks, Rod and Phil will lead you there. Talk to Sophie Thomas, the girl in the red, she'll help you out. Then, meet us in the bar."

The Commander then looked over the kids' shoulders. "Congratulations on the promotion, Corporal Delacroix!"

"Aw, FUCK YEAH! Fuck you, Murph!"

Murph groaned aloud, holding his head in his palms.

"Anyways, I got to do debriefs with the team. Go ahead." The Commander waved them along, giving a demure, sort of whitewashed smile.

"Thank you!" Nora opened her arms for a hug, taking a few steps towards Commander Cheng's escort, only for Phillipe to throw out his arm, a long baton extending from within his huge fist.

"No touching."

* * *

In the bar, there was almost as much tension as there was outside, only for different reasons.

"I'm TELLING you, uce. They're aliens. No way they came out of that portal and they're not aliens. My guy in the Montana wilds? He's seen this sort of shit, dude. This is legit!"

"Oh my GOD, shut UP, Jack! Nobody gives a shit about your tinfoil hat bullshit, man!"

"Hey, hey, hey!"

Three men sat at the bar, a row of empty seats between the paranoid Sergeant Jack Sagole and the good-natured peacemaker Private Jeremy Hall. Standing up in the center of the room was a very, VERY irritated Engineer, Junior Grade Dick McCullen. The portly engineer had come to get a drink, and found out that Jack and Jeremy had been assigned to greet some 'civilians' that came in under suspicious circumstances involving a psionic portal. Jack's ever-growing, colorful array of conspiracy theories, of course, had an explanation for this strange phenomena, and as usual, he was blabbing to everyone about it. Jerry could take it in stride.

Dick could not.

"I'm telling you, bro-"

"For the love of FUCK, Jack, I don't care!"

"Dick, cool it. Jack, bruh, it might be smart to just drop it, especially when the kids get here. Adam's definitely been through this with them." Jerry tried to raise his hands, using his usual 'trust me I'm a doctor' tone of voice- it wasn't working too well.

"Fu-u-uck that dude, man. You know he HAD to be doing some shady shit back in his day. Look at the dude, man. He looks like some kinda spook."

"He was in Old X-COM, with Bradford and the Commander, so show some respect, you fuckin' nutjob."

"Ah, get your Grey Goose and get out of my face, lardass."

"Head case!"

"Land whale!"

"Psycho!"

"You're an ice-cream binging, bedsheet stealing, toilet clogging, dead-sleeping obeast, and you smell like year old cheddar cheese and expired fish."

"You're a dope-smoking, light-busting, computer-bricking, brain-dead maniac and you look like the spawn of a hobo in a three way with The Rock and a Great Dane!"

"You take that back, you bougie son of a-"

"What the fuck is going on here?" Roderick asked from the doorway, taking off his armored top and dropping it on one of the tables in the bar, watching the engineer and the gunner going back and forth at each other like two rabid dogs. The room fell silent at the sudden intrusion by the former gridiron badass, leading the two parties to immediately point at each other. "Oh, fuck no, don't start that shit with me. I'm just here to see which of those kids I'm stuck babysitting."

"Aw, come on, don't look at it that way, Rod. Hearts and minds, man," Jerry smiled, waving over Roderick to come sit next to him, which the burlier Private did.

"Jerry, you realize these kids showed up wearing what basically amounts to either cosplay or their fucking underwear, toting guns that turned into hammers and a shield that turned into a fucking samurai sword sheath or something, out of a portal in the middle of thin air, in a cave. I shit you not, there's one rocking double D's and she's wearing a CORSET, a skirt that BARELY comes up to her thighs, and LITERAL metal heels! IN A COMBAT ZONE. I'm pretty sure this isn't real, and I'm just in some weird fever dream, and I'm gonna wake up in 2018 and there's no aliens, no invasion, and that dumb Howard The Alien bullshit is gonna be popular again, and then I'll be able to tell my wife that she can go jock on Brad Temple's dick again, because FUCK if I didn't waste seven years of my life."

"Man, fuck the fuckin' ADVENT, man," Jack contributed uninvited, slamming back a bottle of Union Jack. "And fuck these new aliens too."

"Please, Jerry, please, please, please, tell me, for the love of Mother Mary and the Lord Jesus Christ, that Sagole isn't part of the welcoming committee. Tell me that, Jerry. Make me the happiest man on Earth, I will go back into the city center just so I can annul my marriage and give you my fucking soul." Roderick begged. Jerry only shrugged with a weak, nervous smile.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, nooooo. Phillipe's already tried his usual shtick with them, Adam's been harassing them on the ride over, and now this shit. Who's the other person? There's supposed to be four. Dick?"

"I don't even know what you're on about, Roddy."

"Who is it, Jerry?" Rod asked again.

"I think it's Declan or Sophie. I'unno."

"Thank _Christ_. "

"Phillipe?" Dick interrupted. "Phillipe Richard?"

"Eeeyup."

"That dude's an asshole."

"He spent ten years in a maximum security prison in the Alps, I'd be surprised if he wasn't a homicidal schizo after that shit."

"You know, that makes me wonder, why do we always get the nutjobs, the criminals, or famous people?"

"Hey, I'm not famous, or crazy, and my record's clean," Jerry spoke up.

"Jerry, you're an angel, too good for this sinful earth, you're the exception. As for everyone else, I don't even know, dude. I think maybe four or five guys here have had actual military training. I'm not one of them." Roderick stuck out one arm, tucked the other in, and leaned to the side. "Here I am, former Heisman Trophy winner, 2nd Round Draft Pick in the NFL, and now I'm living out of a floating alien helicopter and shooting the people who literally own the NFL now. Don't we have other famous guys?"

"Declan was in a one-hit-wonder band, Quaid was a preacher, I think Art was an MP in Canada, Wolf Mother did porn-"

"WHAT!?"

"I shit you not, she has a porno out there."

"You're fucking pulling my leg."

"I am not pulling your leg, but you might be pulling your third leg in about an hour out of curiosity."

"You fat, disgusting little man," Jack sniped, throwing his beer bottle at Dick's head, and missing by a long shot. "Fuck!"

"Next time I'm socking you in the jaw you fucking basehead!"

"Come at me, big boy, I'll cut you so deep you turn into a gravy fountain!"

A loud, shrill whistle pierced the argument like a hot knife. "What is UP, you reprobates?" shouted Declan as he sauntered into the room, throwing himself onto a stool at the bar. "I'll tell you what, I've seen some wild shit in my life, but a bunch of teenagers literally flying out of a portal in the middle of a cave is some new age shit. I coulda swore I was high for ten seconds, because I don't know HOW to explain that shit. Jack, what's the latest in your series of bad ideas?"

"Oh, Strat, don't you FUCKING let him start!" Roderick protested, glaring as the axeman let out a barking laugh at Roderick's expense.

"Man, when they prove me right, you'll all come crying to me! I was right about the invasion, I'll be right about this too!" Jack whined, taking the opportunity to present Declan with an idea of what he should do next via sign language.

"Put them fingers down before I break 'em, hoss." Declan sat next to Jerry, raising his fist, which the other man rapped the back of with his own. "So, you too?"

"Yep. I think it's me, you, Jack, and Rod."

"I'm not rooming with em, I'm just suspicious! I know the Elders wanna shut me up, I can't just let them come in without them knowing I'm onto them!"

"Jerry, I want to kill him. Can I kill him?" Rod pressed his hands together, resting his forehead on them and letting out an anguished groan.

"No can do. Let's just be be glad they're not in a room with him." Jerry looked over the bar into one of the multiple coolers lying around the floor and grabbed a can of beer, tossing it to Declan, who scoffed at the meager offering.

"Get this fucking Pabst hippie bullshit out of my boat, Jerry!"

"I don't drink, go complain to the Boss Lady. She's not in a good mood, though, right now. At least from what I heard."

"Why?" Roderick perked up, apprehensive.

"Remember how I said I didn't know you were rooming with the kids? You never let me finish. I didn't know that you and Declan were."

"Then who the fuck is number four?"

"I'm supposed to be bunking with 'Nora', and 'Ren' is supposed to be bunking with *freakin'* Wade."

Roderick let out a massive guffaw, doubling over in laughter as he attempted to comprehend how the resident shithead stoner got an important assignment like that.

"Supposedly I'm rooming with 'Pyrrha'. The one with ridiculously revealing clothes," Roderick contributed.

"And I'm stuck with Jean. Wait a fuckin'... what the fuck? J-a-u-n-e. Who the hell names their kid 'yellow'?"

"Some Portland hipster with way too much 'creative energy', I bet," Jerry contributed.

"Jerry, aren't you FROM Portland?" Declan jibed, giving the man a smug smirk and pointing his finger in accusation.

"I'm from MICHIGAN."

"Then who the hell is from Portland?"

"I think Wolf Mother. Maybe Root?"

"Nah, Root's from... no, maybe it's Root. Rod, where you from?"

"Aurora."

"Huh. Never woulda guessed."

3 of the PDAs in the room buzzed, two at once, followed by the other in short order.

 _J. Hall, R. Braddock G. MacAuley_

 _Re: Babysitting_

 _Look sharp._

 _-Murph_

 _D. Delacroix S. Thomas_

 _Subj: Good luck, fuckboy_

 _Hey, arse-face. Apparently they're bunking with our fireteams. Can't want to see how Adam reacts to that news. If you wanna make a suicide pact, make sure to pass this along to Jack- not that he'll be any better than Adam._

"Well, fuck," Declan mumbled.

"What is it, Declan?"

"Hey, Jerry, Rod- it's girls night in Hitman's dorm, evidently."

"You're putting two teenage girls in a den of chads- and Jerry."

"Anyone who unironically uses that word should be shot," Jerry protested, feeling a bit called out. "Besides, I saw the feed. They could beat all of us up, probably."

"That there, Jerry, that's a fine-ass joke. Now look presentable. Jack, fuck off." Rod sent the man in question a bird, which Jack responded to in kind.

"Fuck you too, sweetie!" The Samoan-American stood up, skulking out of the room in the direction the kids would likely be coming from.

"I'll go too, see you guys around." McCullen followed, headed the opposite way from the conspiracy nut, towards Shen's personal office. With them gone, the 4-man welcoming committee got to work cleaning up the bar.

"Hey, we should give them some water. Strat, you mind taking point on that?" Jerry called over, busying himself collecting bottles and cans.

"Ugandan tap water?" Declan asked.

"We still have that fucking poison!? Fuck no!" Roderick shouted back. "And where the hell is Wade?"

"Probably hotboxing. I don't know how Assassin puts up with him. Just get some of the bottled water out of the fridge, Dec."

"Aight, got it. Any of these kids of age?"

"Ask yourself that question again and see how stupid it sounds."

"Shut up, Rod, we're in our thirties, everyone is a kid to us now."

"That's not how it works, and I'm 24," Jerry replied, chucking glasses into the sink just as footsteps became audible in the hall. His hand absently knocked a fork off the bar, which proceeded to land face up in the small rubber mat, sticking ramrod straight, to Declan's amusement.

"Behold, a sign from the kitchen gods! Don't pick it up, it's bad mojo."

"Fuck mojo, one of the- yo, what the fuck!?" Rod jumped back, bumping into the ranger and causing him to drop the bottles in his hands.

"What? Wha-at is the fork doing right now?"

Jerry looked over at the fork from over the bar, eyes widening at the fact that it was currently bent at a 90 degree angle, and bending further. "That the kitchen gods too, Declan?"

"I'm not really jokin' about this-"

A cascade of shouting came from down the hall, with a few voices being audible above the others.

 _"_ _I'm sorry!"_

 _"_ _What the HELL did you just do!?"_

 _"_ _I don't think she did anything, Adam-"_

 _"_ _Nonono, he's right, my Aura is off, and my Semblance seems to be activating involuntarily. I'm sorry, I'll fix it!"_

 _"_ _The hell is she on about- okay, you know what, I'm just gonna shoot you now before you kill us all."_

 _"_ _DO IT AND I BREAK YOUR LEGS!"_

 _"_ _I'LL BITE OFF YOUR NOSE AND EAT IT, ALIEN FREAK!"_

 _"_ _Nora!"_

 _"_ _Jack!"_

 _"_ _What the hell is going on here?"_

 _"_ _Central, I can-"_

 _"_ _Enough with the harassment, get out of their way, NOW. We'll fix the wall panel."_

 _"_ _Didn't you see her-"_

 _"_ _I said, that's enough. Move it, Captain."_

Declan's mouth formed a wide 'o', the Ranger looking over at the others as he slowly pointed out the door.

"Declan. Don't. Say. Anything," Jerry warned sternly.

"I'm gonna annoy the shit out of him about that later."

"Strat, I will break your twig of a spine over my knee SO goddamn fast." Roderick grabbed the water bottles, glaring at his 'comrade'. "Not a great time. Also, did the fork stop bending?"

"Sure did," Jerry noted, walking around the bar and grabbing the utensil. "Jeez, I dunno what that was."

The footsteps in the hall resumed, much faster this time, as a familiar face rounded the corner- Private Sophie Thomas, the ginger Englishwoman from Menace Team was motioning along what must be the four charges, looking a bit frazzled.

"So sorry about that, really, Adam and Jack have just been through a lot lately, and they're scared tha- Oh, Declan! Ahahaha~ Yes, everything is absolutely shite. Anyways, you kids have a good evening while I figure out what we're gonna do about your living arrangements! Ta-ta!"

Sophie went to bolt, but stopped when she saw the fork, looking up at Jerry with an expression of confusion. "Jeremy, have you been working out?"

Jerry's cheeks went a shade red and he shrugged. "I, uh... maybe a little?"

Sophie gave a slight, barely audible yelp before running for the hills again.

"So, should someone..." came a voice from the hall. Male. Kinda strained.

"She looked very busy, Jaune," came another male voice, far more relaxed. "She must be helping arrange our living situation, as well."

"She seemed nice-"

Sure enough, two of the kids, one tall, muscular redhead- 'crimson' was a more apt descriptor- in sweatpants and an Adidas shirt, the other an even taller blonde boy with unusually blue eyes, golden blonde hair, and to Declan's barely concealed laughter-

"PFFFFFFFFFFF he's wearing JORTS!" whimpered Declan, holding one hand over his mouth. "Fuggin' Jorts! They're so tiny!"

"Uh... I think he's my size, I got a spare change of pants. Hey, you! What's your name?" Roddy asked.

"I-I'm Jaune."

"I'll give you my spare fatigue pants, and we can burn those."

"I'm not really opposed to that idea. S-sir!"

Declan continued to giggle, whereas the girl looked over at the fork.

"Oh, no! I'll fix that for you! I'm so sorry if I interrupted your meal!"

Raising her hand, a blackish-red cloud of energy crackled around her hand, and the fork slowly bent forward in Jerry's hand, drawing the awestruck gaze of all three soldiers as the fork went upright once more. Once all was right, they looked back at the crimsonette, slowly, one after the other.

"Did you actually just-" Jerry started, unable to finish his sentence due to just how UNBELIEVABLY RIDICULOUS this was.

"I used my Semblance to straighten it out... you don't know what that means, do you?"

"That was BADASS!" Declan shouted suddenly, hopping up excitedly before making finger guns at the evident metal-bender. "Pyrrha, right? Do that shit again!"

"Err, I don't know if-"

"I think I've seen enough," Roderick interrupted. "Sit down. I think we need to have a talk."

* * *

Jaune sat nervously, sipping his water as Roderick stared at Pyrrha, the other men on the other sides of the big bodyguard (or at least that's what Jaune thought he was) scrutinizing them as well.

"So," Roderick began, pointing particularly at Ren. "All of you can do that?"

"We all have different Semblances. Pyrrha's is control of metal. Mine is to read and mask the emotions of those around me. Nora's is to absorb the energy from electricity."

"What about Jaune?"

"He..."

"I don't have one," Jaune admitted. "It's kind of a sore spot, but, yeah. I haven't unlocked mine."

"Huh. So it's an ability you get with time, not when you're born. That tells us something. And y'all are human?"

"Yep!" Nora agreed.

"Weird that we wouldn't have any abilities like that. Do you guys even know what planet we're on?"

"Not... particularly. Is this Remnant?" Pyrrha asked.

"So they are aliens! Jack is gonna be PISSED!" Declan pumped his fist, snickering as Jerry gave him a stiff look.

"I guess to you, we must seem like aliens." Ren nodded at Declan's statement, before looking back at Roderick. "But we mean you no harm. We would have attacked you if we did."

"Yeah, I guess I can vouch for that," Declan agreed. "They were helpin' us kill that thing in the cave. You called it a Grimm?"

"Yes. A Beowolf, to be specific."

"Huh. And you've fought these things before?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, we're training to do it for a career."

"So where you're from, these things are a problem?"

"A BIG one," Jaune corrected. "There are tons of combat schools, not to mention the four big academies. We go-WENT to Beacon, before we somehow ended up here."

"So, question time," Jerry spoke up. "Hi, I'm Jerry by the way. Nora, you're my bunkmate, apparently."

"Shweet!"

"Anyway, question- you got here from a portal, right?"

"I believe that's an apt summary," Pyrrha agreed.

"The portal only showed up when the Viper King started moving, right?" Jerry asked, looking over at Declan.

"Oh, so that's what we're calling it? Yup. It was almost like it..."

"Summoned it!" Jerry and Declan suddenly exclaimed, the revelation seemingly coming to them simultaneously.

"Awesome, so if we can find the thing again, we can probably send you back!" Jerry snapped his fingers. "Man, that's awesome! Since he was so badly wounded, it probably won't be too hard to force him to try and bail out!"

"That seems like a great idea, Mr. Jerry," Pyrrha agreed, before being met with a raised hand from Jerry.

"Just Jerry. I'm probably not much older than you four. How old are you, anyway?"

"16," Jaune answered.

Pyrrha looked a bit taken aback by that, but composed herself. "17."

"A LADY NEVER TELLS!" Nora shouted, putting her fists to her hips.

"17 for me, 16 for Nora," Ren explained, frowning at Nora's antics.

"I'm fixin' to card the two of you," Declan said, pointing at Jaune and Pyrrha. "You're too tall, and you're... too tall."

"Nice save," Roderick drawled sarcastically. "Don't give us your actual ID."

Jaune slowly slid his wallet back into the pocket of his pants. "So... what now?"

"You're bunking with us, apparently. Pyrrha and Nora are goin' with me and Jerry, and you'll be going with Declan."

Declan threw up horns and winked at Jaune, who couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous.

"Is there anyone else with us?" Pyrrha asked. "In the rooms, I mean."

"Yep. Alexios Nikos rooms with us, you've met him," Jerry explained. "Jaune will be with Sophie... Adam, and... _Jack_."

"May I request a change of rooms, please?" Pyrrha asked, drawing a look from Ren, who made a subtle 'uh-oh' gesture to Jerry.

"I'd have to talk to Menace about that," Roderick replied.

"Then I suppose you'll let Jaune bunk with me instead," Pyrrha replied, insistently.

"Um... I'm cool with that," Jerry agreed, biting his lower lip and looking over at Roderick with a glare that Jaune could only interpret as 'say yes or I will punch you in the crotch'.

Roderick nodded slowly. "Yeeeaaaah. Sounds reasonable. Shit, maybe even Ren can board with us, I don't know. Let's not worry about that right this second. When's the last time you kids had anything to eat?"

"About breakfast time, so... 2 hours ago?" Pyrrha replied.

"Hey, Pyrrha. It's 5:00 PM."

"They probably are from a different planet so, yeah, no shit their time is gonna be wrong as fuck, Peace!"

"Peace?" Nora asked.

"Nickname. Around here, we go by nicknames when on assignment to avoid being called out individually by the suckers comin' after us. I'm Stratosphere, Jerry is Peacekeeper, Adam is Invincible, et cetera et cetera... Roderick, you don't have one."

"Well I haven't gone on a combat assignment yet, so I can't imagine I'd need one," the bigger man replied. "Besides the point, are you kids hungry? The settlement we're camping near has plenty of stuff, mostly salvaged or hidden out livestock that the ADVENT search teams didn't cull. There are a few wild animals left, but not many, so expect a LOT of fruit and veggies."

"That's perfectly fine. I could definitely go for something small right about now. Are any of you hungry?" Pyrrha looked over at Nora expectantly, said ginger bouncing up and down excitedly.

"She's always hungry," Jaune explained. "I could go for a little something."

"I wouldn't be opposed," Ren agreed.

"Alright then, llllet's get on it!" Declan declared, hopping up from his seat, already strolling out of the door, with an amused Roderick following him with his eyes.

"You'll like him, Nora. He's always hungry, too. Then again, running around and throwing those axes all day probably works up an appetite."

"He better not eat it all before I get there, I'm on a team full of thieving pigs!" Nora shouted as she ran after him, dragging Jerry by the arm. "Come on, Jerry Peace, we're gonna break his legs!"

"Wait, that sounds a little excessive!-"

As the protesting Jerry was forced along, along the remaining members of JNPR couldn't help but let out quiet chuckles as they watched the team's resident ball of energy do her thing. Roderick seemed equally entertained, looking over at the three kids. Unlike many of the people he'd seen so far, Jaune couldn't help but notice that his eyes weren't suspicious. Narrow, almost sky-blue eyes seemed less dangerous and more concerned, less like a soldier scanning for threats than a cop trying to help a kid find his mom in the mall. The lack of hostility was a nice change.

"So, you wanna head out there? Resources aren't unlimited, and this ship has a lot of mouths to feed."

"Right on. Lead the way," Jaune agreed.

* * *

 _Meanwhile_

 _Far away from the Avenger_

 _Vale City_

"Who are you?"

The question was certainly not one Junior Xiong heard often. While he wasn't exactly the king of the Valean underworld, he was its eyes, ears, and to many, its face. The Club, as it was so conservatively named, was a hub for activities both legitimate and... less so. If you lived in Vale, you knew his face, and if somebody asked him to find you, he could know yours within a day. He considered himself somewhat important.

So, this smarmy little emo bitch in a bunch of furs and rags asking him who he was was rather... unusual.

"The fuckin' tooth fairy," Junior answered. "Are you even old enough to be here?"

An ID, obviously fake, stating the holder of it as 24-year old "Cinder Ella". That name was about as stupid as he'd ever heard in his life. Had to admit, the guy who made it was good, but he hadn't met Junior. Junior had the best guys, come to think of it, this ID looked...

"Who gave you this?"

"Roman Torchwick. He told me to come here and find a 'Junior'. Now, Mr. Fairy, if you would be so kind as to point me in his direction..."

The girl (woman?) gave him a smug smirk, and Junior couldn't help but suddenly feel very, very afraid of that little look. Something about this broad felt... off.

"You've found him. What does Candle Neck want this time?"

"Well, you see, Junior, it isn't about what Roman wants... it's about what I want. And I want you to help me help my people. You see, something strange happened recently, and one of my men seems to know quite a bit about it. He needs muscle."

"Well why the hell did Roman send you to me? We don't deal, not after last time went to hell because of Little Red Riding Fuck."

"Oh, this isn't a 'deal'. You are going to walk out of this building with me, and we're going to go for a walk with my associates outside. Grab any weapon you want to bring along."

Junior gritted his teeth. Who the fuck did this smarmy little punk think she was? Did Roman send him some delusional bank robber? A Dust-snorting psychopath? If she treated Roman like this, she'd have her head on his table by the end of the hour. Junior wasn't ABOUT to take this shit. Grabbing Last Call off the bar, and propping it on his shoulder, he looked down at the girl in question, and started to smile.

"Give me a reason not to cave your head in and throw you out of my building."

"Simple. I kill your henchmen, the two greeters you seem so terribly attached to and tear this building to the ground."

Wait a second, that... oh, HELL no. Melanie and Miltia were kin. If this bitch thought she was gonna get away with swinging her lady dick around in his establishment after obviously duping Roman somehow, or being duped by him into trying her shit with him... she was about to get a little object lesson.

"Alright, listen here, you little shit..."

'Miltia' was looking over one of the tables at him, just out of sight. If he turned his head, he'd be able to see her clearly. Unfortunately for 'Miltia', he already knew this game.

"I can see your friend. Illusion Semblances don't work on me, especially when I know my girls are in the back. Your little empty threats and parlor tricks aren't going to stop me from sending you through the skylight."

"Oh, is it now? I don't know if you've heard, but Roman works for me. If I tell him to put a hole in your head, he'll do it without hesitation, because he knows just what will happen if I don't get what I need. So, tell me, Hei. Are you going to help me?"

Junior raised an eyebrow, doing his best to keep a poker face, even as his heart jumped into his throat. He knew a liar when he saw one- either this girl was a whole new tier of con, or she was being deadly serious. Considering that unlike most people, she knew his first name walking into the building, she likely wasn't bluffing. Either way, he couldn't afford to see if she was bluffing at this point. He could call Roman on the way.

"Fine. Give me an hour."

"Five minutes."

"Lady-"

"Do not. Test me."

Junior's frown deepened, and with a loud sigh, he went into the back room behind the bar. "Milly! Mel!"

"Jeez, Junior, like, why are you being so loud?" Melanie called from upstairs, obviously engrossed in her makeup or SOMETHING.

"I'm going out on business. Hold down the fort, and for the love of fuck, don't let Blondie break the new bar!"

"Whatever," she replied.

With another sigh, Junior tapped Last Call against his shoulder rhythmically as he went back behind the bar, walking out through the panel door, and brushing past the woman. Suddenly, he stopped, looking over his shoulder.

"Why the fake ID?"

"It's not fake," the woman replied conservatively. Junior just shrugged, and pushed open the door, revealing that Roman was waiting for him outside, along with a kid with bullet grey hair and the look of a snide motherfucker, and some guy with a big beard, a bigger rifle, a baseball cap, and a leather trench coat over some bulletproof padding.

"Roman."

"Junior! Why the long face, thought you'd be glad to see me? Didn't enjoy the missus' company?"

"Don't bullshit me. What's the angle here?"

"Our strange friend here has been looking for a way home, and now he thinks we have one. Of course, he's been doing a few odd jobs for us, and now that the plan is in motion, he could use a bit more help with said odd jobs. It's an offer you can't refuse, Junior- money, power, and a place in the new world!"

"'New world, my ass," muttered Junior. "Let's just get this shit over with and done, shall we?"

* * *

Well, he didn't know WHAT the fuck else he was supposed to expect after that.

The middle of the goddamn Forever Fall, red trees, Grimm, and all. And for someone who claimed to be from somewhere else entirely, Trenchcoat seemed adamant that he'd been headed the right way.

"What did you say your name was?" Mercury- the grey-haired goon- asked, looking over at Trenchcoat.

"Call me Ezekiel."

"Right, 'Ezekiel.' I get that you're completely and utterly lost, so you can just stop leading us on this wild goose chase before my legs fall off AGAIN."

"I know where we're goin', boy."

Far be it from Junior to question a man with that much certainty in his talk. He followed Ezekiel, the party of Emerald-the broad with the illusions-, Cinder, Mercury, Roman, and himself trying to keep up with the stranger's brisk pace. He carried himself like this was a matter of life and death for all of them, and only Cinder and Emerald seemed to be taking it seriously. Good for them.

About a mile more of walking, and there was a loud _THUD_.

"What was that?" Roman asked, recoiling slightly at the impact.

"Her. Let's go."

Who the hell was 'her?'

Still they walked, occasionally being interrupted by the sound of rustling in the trees and more heavy thuds, each growing louder with every minute of walking through the wood. Soon, it was almost deafening, and the bomb-like impacts were starting to shake the ground.

"This 'her' seems like she's going to be very problematic," Junior noted tactfully.

"Understatement," replied Ezekiel. "She's a killer."

An Ursa roared just up ahead, followed by another roar that sounded unlike anything Junior had ever heard in his life. It actually, deep down, scared him. It sounded like a damn abomination from the pit of hell.

"She's here. Don't kill her, just maim her!"

"What is 'she'?" Cinder asked, receiving no answer.

"Remember the deal!" Emerald reminded him. Ezekiel didn't comment.

A few more minutes of running towards the sound, and it was visible. Junior couldn't really find a descriptor right off the bat, but it came soon enough. UGLY. The thing, "Subject Beta", was holding two separated halves of an Ursa, one in each hand, and screaming at the sky. Its head was covered in some sort of metal plate with glowing green lights, and SOMETHING connected to its back by tubes and metal piping. Two large, meat-tenderizer-shaped bricks were braced to its arms, and its mouth unfurled from behind two tusks, unfurled being the word of choice because the thing's mouth didn't open down, it opened sideways, jaw disjointing as a mouth lined with needle-like teeth all over flung thick green spittle into the sky.

Ezekiel stopped dead in his tracks, before firing his gun twice into the sky. "HEY, UGLY! REMEMBER ME!?"

"Beta" turned around, its eyes locking with Ezekiel's, a moment of tense silence piercing the forest as Cinder and company tried to think of a game plan.

Ezekiel wasn't having any of it, instead shooting the thing directly in the mouth as it went to scream again. With a roar of agony, and another pounding of fists on the ground, punctuated by the second impact of the metal things on its arms, it stared down the assembled lowlives from behind at least 5 inches of solid plate metal.

Pile Drivers.

'Someone thought it was a good idea to put a weapon on this ugly motherfucker,' thought Junior.

Cinder pulled her arm back, shards of glass forming in her hands as she readied up some sort of bow, while Roman had already raised Melodic Cudgel and started firing. Emerald and Mercury broke off to each side, leaving Junior to take the most expedient option. When in doubt, drop rockets on it.

"Fire in the hole!" the bartender shouted, raising Last Call and slamming the butt backward, priming the weapon for action. He could see Ezekiel take a flying dive past the creature, his rifle belching fire as he tried to clear the blast zone.

Well, whether he died or not, Junior was getting paid. He fired.

Each of the six cluster missiles he fired hit the mark, slamming into the creature and staggering it as a cloud of smoke formed. Roars of agony filled the air as the beast reared its ugly head from the smoke, throwing its arms out through the smoke cloud as it began to clear. Some kind of orange gunk flew from its mouth, probably blood, and the beast charged forward, seemingly right at Junior, before slamming into the ground in front of him and attempting to swat at its own back. He could see Emerald's illusion on top of it, but it was obvious from the lack of attacks that it wasn't the genuine article.

"Mercury! Help me!" she shouted

"I'm on it, I'm on it!"

Said kid proceeded to deliver a literal shotgun kick to the face of the creature, followed up by an artful, if a bit silly spinning roundhouse kick that served only to get his leg caught and crushed. For some reason, the kid didn't look at all in pain. More like he was annoyed. Junior wondered if his Semblance was to ignore pain. He'd met a guy with that one back at Signal.

Junior took action, a glass arrow firing over his shoulder as he converted Last Call to bludgeon form, all 6'11" and 270 pounds of man coming through a home-run swing at Subject Beta's head.

It barely even _flinched_.

Throwing Mercury over its head, it roared aloud as it swung a huge brick of meat disguised as a fist at Junior, who just caught it with the edge of his weapon, and was STILL sent hurtling through the air. Roaring again, a large purple rift formed in the air behind it, much to Ezekiel's awe.

"What in the name of-" Roman started.

"So long, shitheads!" Ezekiel shouted, bolting towards the portal with a mile-wide grin, and leaping towards it, turning in midair to give Cinder a one-finger salute. As soon as he hit it, the purple thing, and Ezekiel, disappeared.

Smart man. Junior woulda ran for it too if he knew it got him the fuck out of here.

* * *

 _Far away from Forever Fall_

 _Outskirts of Humanity Falls_

Colonel Ezekiel Collins, formerly of XCOM, currently of Moira Vahlen's security detail, went flying from 'Remnant', his home for the past two weeks, and into a fucking fruit stand at about 30 miles an hour. The laws of space and time continued to be a bitch.

"Jesus Christ!" The woman behind the stand cried out as Ezekiel realized that he now had a faceful of tomato pulp and cherry juice, and couldn't be happier about it. The veteran pulled himself to his feet, looking up at the woman.

"Quick, what planet am I on?"

"U-um, Earth!" she replied.

"What day is it?"

"April 30th, 2035!"

"Where am I right now?"

"Humanity Falls, Michigan!"

Ezekiel threw his arms around the woman and planted a sloppy, fruit-covered kiss right on her lips, before leaping off and running towards the town, and the big ship in the distance. "FUCKING FREEDOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"


	3. Chapter 3 (Sorry for the errors)

"This is... something."

Dr. Richard Tygan had seen many, many strange things in his life. After all, he'd worked in the ADVENT Administration. He knew quite a bit about the strange world that they lived in now, hell, he cams of age in it. They were already working on projects to upgrade XCOM's armory to the same magnetic coilguns used by ADVENT Peacekeepers, which was a pipe dream in and of itself before the invasion.

But this? This was new.

"Doctor Quaruz, is something the matter?" Tygan walked over to the doctor in question, her white hair making her stand out like a neon light in the dark green glow of the science lab.

"These weapons are full of moving parts and stuff, but I don't see any traditional mechanisms, Doctor Tygan. Look- O'Connor, can you unload the rifle?"

Dr. Idris O'Connor attempted to do so, holding the red-and-gold weapon in his hand. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be having any luck unloading it, instead, the weapon began to roll and shift in his hands, extending and folding out into a sword, the blade of which proceeded to slice his hand wide open. "Ah, fer fook's sake!"

Quoruz immediately went and grabbed the weapon out of his hands, leaving the other scientist to run and mend his wounds, cursing all the way.

"Whatever, we managed to unload the pistol. Take a look at these."

Quoruz directed Tygan's attention to a pair of green pistols with long, hatchet-like blades, the contents of which had been emptied next to it- the bullets were capped with an unknown metal, of a greenish color, and appeared to be filled with some sort of alternative to cordite. They also weren't made of a traditional material, a transparent plastic-like material making up the shell casing.

"Doctor Quoruz, I'd like you to send these weapons to engineering. Inform the Chief Engineer that I would also like to run tests on the propellant in these bullets. If she can acquire some from the other weapons, I would be most grateful."

"Got it, sir. I'll be back shortly."

"Don't tarry too long. I believe there are MANY practical applications for this technology."

* * *

Dr. Quoruz made it to Engineering, ridiculously heavy weaponry in tow, no thanks to any of the 'gentlemen' in the halls, dropping it all on the floor as she collapsed into a gasping, sweaty mess. "Jeeeeesuuuuus..."

Chief Engineer Shen looked up from her workstation. "You okay, Michelle?"

"I'm going to DIE."

"Yeesh, how heavy is that stuff?"

"I have NO fucking idea."

Shen walked over, helping the scientist to her feet and starting to gather the weapons, largest first. The hammer was by far the heaviest, feeling something like 15 pounds. "How do you... lift this thing?"

"Beats me," Michelle replied, grabbing the sword and shield and putting them on the bench, as Shen did the same with the hammer before going back.

"So, give me the skinny."

"These weapons appear to be powered by some extraterrestrial propellant, and are able to mechanically shift into firearms or other melee weapons. That red and gold sword? It's also a gun."

"Yeesh. Who the hell needs all that?"

"These kids, apparently."

"Pity anyone who has to fight something that takes that kind of tech. Did they have any armor or anything?"

"Solid plate. Nothing too advanced."

"That's weird. It's gotta be thick enough to stop a bullet, so it's probably not light stuff. On top of these weapons they're probably pretty loaded down."

"Yeah, I bet. So, Tygan wants you to take a look at this stuff and send a sample of propellant from each of the weapons back to him. He also wants you to see about reverse-engineering the weapons tech."

"That's a tall order. This stuff is like the unholy lovechild of Space Age and Dark Ages. It'll take me a while to analyze this stuff."

"It's fine. We don't have many other projects anyway, other than the new weapons and armor."

"Yeah, should probably take about a month, tops."

"How long do you reckon it'll take to fabricate the new guns and armor?"

"The armor should be ready for field deployment next week, the guns the week after."

"Awesome, I know the guys will be pumped. Anyway, see ya around, Lil, I gotta get back to the science bay."

"Wait. While you're out, I need you to tell Bradford to come down."

"Why's that?"

Shen motioned for Dr. Quoruz to come behind the workbench, and pointed at the computer ROV-R was hooked up to. The screen displayed a single, glowing green spiral in the middle of what used to be China.

"Remember that signal?"

"What about it?"

"I found where it's coming from."

"Ho-ly _shit_."

* * *

Mealtime was rather rudely interrupted by a very, VERY intense Chief Engineer Shen and Central Officer Bradford demanding a meeting in the Guerilla Tactics School, which very obviously confused the LIVING SHIT out of the new arrivals. Thus, Declan took it upon himself, merciful man that he was, to guide the childrens to their respective rooming arrangements. While Nora protested, everyone else seemed fine with the sudden rush, especially Ren, who looked like he was about to pass the FUCK out. As a matter of fact, he immediately flopped onto his bunk and did just that.

Once that was taken care of, Declan rendezvoused with Jerry and Adam, the latter of the two seemed absolutely fuck-all pissed.

"What's got your britches in a knot, King George?" Declan asked, slapping the Brit on the back as he began walking to the impromptu situation room, Jerry in tow.

"What's the fuckin' luck, eh, Declan? First Valhen, now Shen, and Shen's bloody DEAD."

"Shen's not dead."

"Her dad, Dec," Jerry explained. "The Chief's dad was the Chief Engineer for Old XCOM. During the invasion. He died around the time that the old organization collapsed. Supposedly, he left something behind for Lily, and for whatever reason, we're only just now hearing about it."

"So we got a ghost in the machine?"

"I don't know and I'm as ready as anyone to find out," Adam replied. "If it's some sort of sick joke I'm going to kill someone."

"You and your death threats, Sarge."

The rest of the walk to the GTS was uneventful save for the crowd, who were being dispelled one by one as Bradford picked and chose who needed to know and who didn't. Once the three entered and caught Bradford's eye, he nodded.

"Alright. Thanks for the hustle, soldiers, but I'm only gonna need a few hands. Thomas, MacAuley, Delacroix, Jones, and Hall, stick around. The rest of you, go back to your grub. It's not going anywhere."

There was a bit of a ruckus, annoyed and relieved in equal measure, as the room cleared, giving everyone space to maneuver. In the suddenly more casual setting, Declan chose to sit on the weight bench, while Adam and Sophie stood by the door. Jerry and Murph simply stood where the crowd had been gathered, in the center of the room.

"What's the play?" Murph asked, folding his arms. To the point, as usual.

"Remember that signal we picked up from ROV-R? The one that was apparently from Shen? Well, we triangulated the source. Lily?"

Lily nodded at ROV-R, who flashed a holographic projection- a tall, cylindrical tower that had obviously seen better days.

"This is Shaxiang Tower, formerly a R&D facility run by ADVENT for use in their Mechanized Peacekeeper program. Recently, the facility went dark, but no ADVENT or Resistance teams have ever been able to penetrate the security system. Something happened in the facility, and now, it's sending out a signal. It's suspicious, and most definitely a high risk operation, but we need to find out who the hell in that facility is contacting us, and how they know Raymond."

"My dad is dead. I know that. But if someone, or something, knows about him, and knows how to contact us, then we're in considerable danger," Lily explained. "We have to hit it, or else we could be facing one hell of a bad time."

"When do we head out?" Adam asked.

"Now. Start gearing up, it'll still be a few hours before we arrive, but you need to be ready," Bradford replied.

"Right. You heard 'im, Menace. Get movin'."

Adam immediately exited the room as the picture of professionalism, leaving Declan to look after a shrugging Sophie, who followed him out the door. Weird how that girl was pretty much taped to Adam's back. Maybe she figured the old man knew what he was doing. Maybe she was worried he'd throw his back out. Who knew?

Declan wasn't in a hurry though, instead waiting for Jerry and Murph to finish their questioning.

"What's resistance look like?" Jerry asked.

"No signs of life, but the automated systems will almost certainly still be online, or at the very least on standby."

"What about the team? Slot's empty," Murphy pointed out.

"I'm going with you," replied Lily.

"That's a negative."

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I don't remember asking you for your opinion on the matter."

"Lil, you're not a combatant, and you're sure as hell not ready for a sensitive operation like this."

"First of all, _Gregory_ , I've been training with a rifle since we caught that signal. Second, I'm the best tech we have. I can get us into the facility with a snap of my fingers."

"Soph's a Specialist, she could handle it-"

"Sophie is a script kiddie who can barely parse Python!"

"Yo, Chief, come on," Jerry interrupted, stepping forward and putting his hand out, the only man in the room keeping an even tone at this point. "If you go down out there, we're fucked. There's no one on this ship capable of doing what you do. Do you understand why we're kind of concerned?"

"It's not necessary, Jerry. I'm bringing you five along for a reason."

Murph stood silently for a moment, contemplating, before giving a slow, thoughtful nod. "Right. That'll be all. C'mon, Jerry, we got a date to keep."

The two members of Hitman Team left, Jerry taking a moment to knock Declan's outstretched fist on the way out, drawing the CO and Shen's attention to the last man in the room with them.

"Got anything to contribute, Declan?" asked Bradford.

"Not really."

"Go ahead and get ready, then. Have you talked to Doctor Mayes?"

"Not today."

"Get on that as soon as you can. I need you in top form."

"Yessir."

With that in mind, Declan stood up, gave a lazy salute, and left the room.

* * *

As of right now, Jaune was currently in "Menace Team's" bunk area. 8 beds total. He'd apparently been assigned to the same bunk bed as Sophie, the girl that had gotten Team JNPR some decent changes of clothes. She seemed really nice, and everyone on the team seemed to like her enough. It would be nice sleeping above someone who probably wasn't going to try and kill him.

The same could not be said of Jack, the big, burly man who'd, rather boldly, threatened to eat Nora's nose. His bunk was across the room from Jaune, and above him was Adam, the man from the cave that Jaune recalled was of the opinion that shooting everyone was the best option. Neither of them seemed to be the most well-adjusted people, but considering the hearsay he'd picked up, it sounded like these people had a reason to be scared.

Migrating to one of the other sets of beds on the other side was Lawrence Hamilton, the guy who had what was now Jaune's bed. They'd met at lunch- Lawrence was an older-looking man with dark russet hair, a thick mustache, and a pair of aviator sunglasses that, according to Sophie, only came off when he was sleeping, and even then, he slept facing the wall. Mysterious fellow, but a nice one. He didn't talk very much, though. Below him was Declan, who Jaune... wasn't sure how to feel about. He seemed a bit wild, and almost everyone else on the ship gave him funny looks, but he also wasn't an asshole. Just eccentric. REALLY eccentric.

The final bunk bed off in the corner had one empty slot, and another one marked 'J. Kelly.' The bed was immaculate, save for a baseball cap sitting on top of it. It didn't look like it was in use, unlike the other beds, which were still sorta messy- it was obvious most everyone that wasn't Adam wasn't trying to make an impression.

Looking around the room is where things got a bit more interesting. The room was surprisingly well-furnished, with a small round table, a microwave, a mini fridge, a couch, two chairs, and a TV off in the corner. Around the TV were some display cases, one of which had a solid black acoustic guitar with a design of some sort of circle around it, marked with patterns that didn't really make any sense to Jaune. The opposite side case contained some sort of poster, advertising a concert for some band called "Bad Rabbits". Above the TV rested a large yellow flag that carried the image of a snake, and the words "Don't Tread on Me." Other things were scattered around the room, like a strange, short-handled paddle, a jersey with the name "Sagole" and the number 6 on the back, a picture of Lawrence, a woman, and two kids, and a row of CDs that appeared to be from a band called "Stratosphere". Besides the picture, he wondered what belonged to who. Maybe it would be a good conversation starter.

Speaking of conversation, Sophie entered the room, followed by Declan.

"Ello, Jaune!"

"Yo, yo, yo, Mellow Yellow!"

Jaune sat up a little too fast and whacked his head against the ceiling, drawing a guffaw from Declan. "Ack!"

"Aaaaaand he's initiated!"

"Mind the gap, fella, it's a doozy the first few times." Sophie plopped down on the couch, leaning up against the back to look over at Jaune. "You like it?"

"Yeah, it's nice, considering how cramped you guys are. I was just looking around. This is all your stuff?"

"Yup!" she replied.

"Whose guitar is that?"

"That'd be mine, boy. Been playin' since I was 13," Declan explained.

"Cool! My dad taught me how to play a few years ago. Ladies love it."

"I bet they do, string bean, you look like you have about as much game as a geriatric old man at a Sunday Social."

"Jeez, Declan, Adam and Jack will be troubling him enough!" Sophie chided, punching Declan in the arm. "Bully."

"Consume my pantaloons, darlin'." Declan plopped onto his bunk, pulling a duffel bag out from under it. "Glad I didn't change yet."

"You're not gonna take a shower?"

"Who's gonna smell me? The aliens?"

"No, but I can't do that, I'll feel dirty as all hell!"

"You're definitely not a soldier, Soph."

"Neither are you! You were a hobo!"

"The proper lingo is 'traveling musician', my dear Sophia."

"Jaune, back me up here!" Sophie demanded, pointing at the scraggly blonde in question.

"He doesn't even know you or me from Eve's left tit!" Declan punctuated his vulgar -ism by flicking Sophie in the head, which drew her ire even further.

"I'm gonna rip off that caterpillar on your lip and shove it up your arse!"

Jaune watched the two bicker back and forth, insults volleying between them. Sophie seemed to be getting angrier by the second, but Declan? Declan was having a blast.

"You're such a twat to everyone, Declan!"

"Go cry to your boyfriend about it, then."

"HEY! Don't go there!"

"Hey, Jaune! You're a ladykiller, right? Sweep Lil' Miss Princess off her feet and get her out of my hair."

"Oi, he's a teenager from another planet!"

"And you're 23."

"That's besides the point! Did you not hear the 'another planet' part?"

"Why are you bringing me into this!?" Jaune asked, confused.

"Because Declan is a dick!"

"Because it's the only entertainment I get in my miserable existence," replied Declan, ruffling Sophie's hair to her further annoyance. "I'm gonna go sharpen my axes, if you two little snots decide to fuck, let me know."

"Stop that!" Sophie demanded, grabbing a coffee cup and throwing it at the rising Declan, who deflected it with a backhand, sending it shattering across the floor.

"That was Adam's, you know."

"I'll tell him you broke it!"

"I bet."

As Declan walked to the door, speak of the devil, there was Adam. With a smile, Declan pointed back into the room.

"Hey, Chief. Jaune broke that mug you've been fussing over."

Aaaaaand under the bus he went.

"I heard you from down the hall, you shit," Adam replied. "Get out."

"Yeesh."

Declan walked out of the room, leaving Adam to walk in, toting a large bag, and a blanket. Dropping them both on the center of the floor, he pointed at Jaune without even looking. "Off the bed."

"Huh?"

"Are you deaf, or just daft? Off the bed."

"Sir-" Sophie began, only to be shut down by Adam.

"I SAID off the bed, and he's going to comply."

Jaune figured there was no point in arguing with the guy, so he stepped down off the bed, and looked over at the bag. "Alright."

"Congratulations. This is your new bed," Adam explained, pointing at the blanket on the floor, then at the bag. "This is your pillow. If I see you anywhere else than on the floor after 2300, I'm putting a slug through your head. Are we clear?"

Jaune balked slightly, and Sophie just looked at him with a defeated frown, mouthing 'I'm so sorry'.

"I said ARE WE CLEAR, lad, or do I have to personally come over there and knock the shit out of your ears?"

"R-right!"

"I'm not on your right, you stupid fuck!"

"Yes sir!"

"Damn right!"

This was going to be a very long few weeks.

* * *

Nora herself would be the first to tell you she's no genius, but even she was absolutely certain the lack of team contact was getting to Pyrrha. It was kinda weird- Pyrrha was a celebrity, but she seemed to withdraw when in the presence of strangers.

That, or she just didn't trust them, which is a totally reasonable thought about these strangers, considering some of them made it VERY clear they wanted to KILL her and her teammates. That was totally grounds for suspicion

The room they were staying in was heavily decorated, with flags, posters, guns, a bunch of pictures, an old record player, and a weird drawing of a bear with three eyes. It was pretty cool, but also pretty creepy. On the same piece of paper there was a bunch of faces. She recognized Roderick, Jerry, and Murph, although they looked a little different- Murph wasn't wearing his hat, revealing that, at least in the drawing, he had long hair, Roderick had short hair, and Jerry was clean-shaven.

Weird.

Speaking of Jerry, said guy walked into the room with Murph, the latter adjusting his hat slightly and taking off his armored top.

"This shit's too heavy."

"No shit. Plus, it doesn't have any character, you know? We just look like a bunch of goons," Jerry agreed, before looking over at Pyrrha. "Hey."

"Hello again."

"You look a little down. You good?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Alright, just let us know if you need anything before we head out."

"Where ya goin'?" Nora piped up.

"Mission," Murph answered, tossing off his undershirt and grabbing a vest that did very little to protect his torso. "Gonna be hot where we're headed, Jerry. Don't wear that sweatshirt."

"I got plenty of other stuff," Jerry replied, illustrating his point by whipping out an old green T-Shirt that carried the same three-eyed bear as the drawing. When he went to put it on, Nora noted that the back had some writing on it. 'We gave peace a chance.' Huh. "Shave, dude."

"Fuck's it matter to you, kid?"

"Dude, you've got more hair on your chest than Roderick has in his beard, it's kinda disturbing."

Murph shrugged. "Anyway. Think I'm gonna bring along the new shit."

"Oooooh. Hey, guys," Jerry started, "You wanna hear something cool?"

"Jerry-"

"Aw come on, they don't know where the armory is. Anyway, wanna hear it?"

"Yeah!" Nora replied, bouncing up on the bed excitedly. She loved cool things, especially if they exploded. Explosions are GREAT.

"We got some grenades that freeze anything in the blast radius. Like, literally freeze it."

Nora's mouth formed an 'o', and she slowly raised a hand. "I wanna see!"

"Ah, geez, Jerry, you're breaking protocol, you cunt."

"Aw, come on, what's the harm? Look at her, she wouldn't-"

"She walked into our lives with a hammer that turns into a grenade launcher. There is PLENTY of potential harm."

"You wanted to snag the thing from Tygan, so I think she has the right to watch us freeze something."

"Who's Tygan and what has he done with my BABY!?" Nora demanded, jumping off the bed and pointing accusitoraly at Murph, who threw his hands up.

"Easy, sheila, eaaaasy. They're in storage. No one's messin' with 'em."

The room shifted slightly, causing Nora to stumble to the side and Pyrrha to start sliding off of her bed. A dull roar was just audible coming from outside the room.

"What was that?" Pyrrha asked.

"We're taking off, but we're ahead of schedule. That's not normal," Murph noted.

"Yeah, we weren't supposed to be at the mission site for another 11 hours. The trip won't take that long."

"Hang on a minute." Murph went to walk out of the room, only to be bumped into by Roderick, who was carrying Manghild in his hands. "Oi!"

"No time to explain, Remi and I are snagging the kids' gear. We've got a new best friend." Roderick tossed the hammer at Nora, who caught it effortlessly.

"Awwwwww yeah!"

"Wait, what's happening now?" Pyrrha asked, quickly getting to her feet.

"I'll get you guys some body armor. I saw that shit you did with the spoon, and I think you can give us a hand with a new development," Roderick explained, pulling Miló and Akoúo off of his back. "Pyrrha!"

Pyrrha pulled the weapons into her grasp with her Semblance, still looking a bit confused. "What do you mean by 'new development?'"

Roderick looked at Murph. "If the bridge crew's any indication, we're about to take a hard fucking drop."

"Wait, we're landing again?"

"No. We're being grounded. There's a damn UFO tailing the Avenger."

"When did this start!?" Jerry asked, hurriedly digging through his bag and pulling out some sort of first aid kits.

"And what makes you think handing the kids guns is a good idea!?" Murph followed.

"What're they gonna do, shoot us?"

"You don't know they won't!"

"If the ayys shoot at them, we know that they're on our side. If they don't, they're infiltrators."

"Your reasoning sucks, Roderick!"

"Think. You know the Faceless, right?"

"What about them?"

"The aliens never shot at them."

"He's got a point," Jerry agreed. "Best one I've heard all day, at that. Hey, Nora, Pyrrha, you gonna shoot us in the back?"

"What kind of question is that?" Nora half-chortled. "Heck no!"

"If you need our help, we owe you for taking us in. You can trust us," Pyrrha assured him.

"Yeah, well the moment you show any signs of otherwise you're getting lit up. Mind your aim."

Murph looked back at the girls, frowning something fierce, before shaking his head. "I'm not gonna babysit you. You watch your own shit out there. Now, let's get you in some kind of gear so you don't get canned."

The three soldiers left the room, Pyrrha and Nora following immediately. The narrow halls were crowded by people with similar ideas, and Nora made out one guy barreling towards them with Stormflower on his hip and Crocea Mors on his back.

"Roddy, where the blue fuck is the guy with the shield?" he asked.

"He's with Menace!" Roderick replied.

"Right!" Just like that, the man ran past them, evidently headed to give the weapons to Jaune and Ren. "Oh, son of a bitch! Menace's door is locked!"

"Of course it is! Jerry, Lieutenant, keep going, I'm gonna get that door open!" Roderick followed after the man, running up to the door and charging it shoulder first. "Open up!"

Jerry sighed aloud, but continued ahead, motioning for Pyrrha and Nora to keep up. It wasn't much farther of a run before the lights cut out, and the ship rocked violently, causing at a few of the people running to lose their balance, including one unfortunate soul who slammed into the wall face first.

"Fuckin' 'ell, Remi!" someone shouted.

"I'm fine! Go!"

"Armory is this way," Jerry pointed out, turning on his heel as the ship began to slowly lurch downward. "We'll get you something that makes you look like less of a bullseye."

The Armory was packed with people grabbing weapons and armor, but Jerry managed to squirrel through and drag out some equipment- a pair of slate grey bodysuits. Pyrrha's fit eerily well, but Nora had a little bit too much to work with. Evidently there weren't many people her size here.

"Hurry up, we're on a goddamn timetable!" Adam could be heard shouting.

"Workin' on it!" Declan shouted back.

Not too far from Pyrrha, she heard someone else. "Here's a mic. Spot targets for me."

"Alright," Ren replied. Pyrrha was surprised he'd been noticed by anyone.

"Alright everyone, we're touching down! They're setting up some sort of jammer to keep us grounded," Bradford explained. "Find it, take it out, get back on board! Now move, we're unloading!"

"Who's doing what?" Jack shouted.

"I'll take out the jammer!" Declan volunteered.

"I'll help him!" 'Remi' followed.

Pyrrha felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked over at Jerry. Green locked on green, and Jerry smiled.

"You stick close, alright? You watch my back, I watch yours."

Pyrrha smiled back. "Got it."

"Don't do anythin' stupid, kid!" Murph ordered from behind them.

"Oh, puh-lease!" Nora propped Manghild over her shoulder and grinned the kind of grin that kept Team JNPR awake at night. "I know EXACTLY what I'm doing!"

'She has no idea what she's doing.'

* * *

 _Far Away from the Avenger_

 _Beacon_ _Academy_

"WHADDYA MEAN, JNPR IS MISSING!?" Yang shouted, indignant.

"I mean JNPR is missing, Yang," Weiss replied. "While Jaune cutting class wouldn't surprise me, and Ren sleeping too late is also reasonable, it's impossible for ALL FOUR of them to suddenly stop attending classes, and it's certainly out of character for any of them to miss lunch. If you don't believe me, why do you think that drunken buffoon is wandering around the school! Look, there he is!"

Sure enough, there was a man with a flask of something skulking around the cafeteria, evidently looking for JNPR. While this meant nothing to Weiss or Blake, Ruby took off like a shot from Crescent Rose straight at the man in question.

"What's got her excited?" Blake asked.

"That's our uncle Qrow. He works for Signal Academy, back in Patch. I don't know why they asked him to look," Yang explained. "Still, he's good at what he does, so... I know he'll find 'em."

"In that state!?" Weiss exclaimed. "He's soused out of his mind!"

As if to contrast her statement, said uncle seemed to be handling the attempted love tackle from Ruby rather well, smiling and knuckling her hair under affectionately.

"That's his secret. He's always drunk."

"That doesn't make me feel any better!"

"Yang does have a point, though. He is a trained Huntsman. He'll be able to find out what happened... if he's not drunk."

"I 'unno, ol' Uncle Qrow's pulled off some magic before."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear- Qrow walked over to the rest of Team RWBY, niece in tow.

"Hey, unc!"

"Yang." Qrow looked over at the other two members of the team. "Weiss and Blake, right? Ruby's wrote about you. The name's Qrow. Oz called me to help him look for a missing team, said you guys were close."

"Yes," Weiss agreed, "we were. They were out on a training exercise earlier this morning, but... they never came back."

"That's what I heard. I got the location they were wandering in. We'll see if we can get any leads. Oz says he wants you guys helping me out, though, says y'all will be able to learn somethin' from this. That being said, we'll start tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Blake agreed, nodding quickly. "We'll be ready when you need us."

"Hey, with any luck, we'll be having lunch with our pals this time tomorrow!" Yang pumped her fists, nearly whacking Weiss in her excitement.

"Right. See you tomorrow, kids. I got business."

Qrow took the opportunity presented by Ruby's withdrawal to bop her on the head, before turning on a heel and heading for the exit. A slightly annoyed Ruby pouted after him, though it didn't last long.

"So..." Ruby started.

"So..." Yang began.

"I've been taking notes in class so JNPR can catch up," Blake interrupted.

"As have I!" Weiss followed. "AND I already had someone finish a dissertation for Advanced Dust Mechanics, in case Ren forgot to finish the assignment."

"Weiss literally pays someone else to do someone else's work for her. Scandalous," Blake jibed.

"I'm just looking out for our friends! J-just this one time! I'm not a cheat!"

* * *

Back in the halls of Beacon, Qrow couldn't help but feel a little unnerved. Something about this was mysterious. One person in Emerald Forest was a tragedy. A team of Huntsmen in training disappearing without a single trace in an area of the Emerald Forest that was heavily monitored by Beacon staff for the express purpose of being used as a training zone?

Something was very, very wrong, and he wasn't sure exactly what it was, but one thing was for sure, he wasn't cool with Oz putting any kids on it, let alone his nieces.

"Boss man better have a good fuckin' idea of how to deal with this," Qrow muttered, headed for the massive double doors that led to the world outside.

Tomorrow be damned. He had his own investigation to run.


	4. Chapter 4

" _Alright_ _kid, you hear me in your ear?_ " asked the sniper. Ren hadn't caught his name, but he'd evidently been trusted enough to help this man call his shots. Wasn't wise to refuse that kind of trust in the middle of a fight.

"Yes, loud and clear."

" _Alright. I'm Corporal Hamilton. I'm gonna be counting on you to help me out there. Don't fuck this up. Now, listen, cause this is only gonna work if you do this right. When the doors open, you move in. Stay low, stay in cover, don't engage unless you're immediately threatened. Excersice target prioritization. Biggest threats first. I'll be keeping my eyes around you, so make sure you make your commands relative to your position. Got it?"_

"I understand."

 _"Alright. Don't worry, I'll keep you alive."_

Ren's temporary partner was a old bull of a man- deep russet hair, a thick mustache, and world-weary brown-gray eyes hidden behind massive, scratched-up ballistic goggles made it clear that he'd been at this fighting business for a while, but the way he carried himself and his rifle didn't show any signs of slowing down with age, which was surprising. By Ren's estimate, the man had to be at least 50. Also unusually, Ren couldn't get an emotional read on the man- his Semblance wasn't malfunctioning, the man just seemed that calm. As if this was just another day at the office to him. Maybe it was.

Ren's train of thought was interrupted by the hissing of hydraulics and pistons as the doors to the airship slowly opened, revealing a rosy sunset over a semi-wooded landscape, dotted by small rock outcroppings and a few old, dilapidated buildings. An old gravel road led to a gas station on the far left, while the far right seemed to be one large plateau, with a small creek running along its length.

" _I'm headed up top,"_ Hamilton informed him.

"Okay. I suppose you want me to stay at ground level?"

 _"Yep."_

Ren nodded, and the doors slowly went down the rest of the way, a small platform deploying from the end of the ramp, small metal barricades folding out from it. In the sky above, at least a dozen black aircraft slowly approached the airship.

 _"Hey, Sarge. My little helper and I are going ahead. Mind your fire."_

 _"'Little helper- Corporal, you little SHIT!"_ Adam's irritation was palpable even through the earpiece- Ren suddenly realized he must be patched in with every one of the soldiers who was deploying. That could come in handy.

 _"Trial by fire, Sarge. I can see everything where we're going. Friendly fire isn't gonna be an issue."_

 _"... you better be right. Oi, you! Don't fuck this up!"_

 _"He won't. Get moving, kid."_

Ren took that as his cue, and hit the ground running, dashing through the crowd and out the door in front of everyone else, taking a flying leap over both the barricades.

"Jesus!" Alexios shouted from behind him.

Training his eyes on the field ahead, Ren could already see some transports on the ground, black-and-red armored soldiers with masks that covered all but their mouths hopping out of the sides, loading weapons and barking orders in a language Ren didn't recognize. A couple of large, humanoid robots also disembarked from the transports, following certain, red-armored soldiers with long shoulder capes.

Ren dug his heels in and slid to a halt behind a metal fence, crouching down to avoid being spotted. "Corporal?"

 _"I see you, kid. I'm climbing up now. What's it looking like down there?"_

"A lot of foot soldiers, some robots as well."

 _"You see any big, pink, naked alien motherfuckers?"_

"...What kind of question is that?" Ren looked anyway, but didn't see anything matching that description. "Nothing of that sort, though."

 _"Cool. Any guys in red?"_

"I'm looking at one right now. The ship in the middle, in front of the white robot."

There was a hum on the other end, and a long pause, before a dull bang rang out in the distance. Ren watched as a bullet pierced the skull of the aforementioned man in red, sending a spray of orange blood backwards, and the rest of the men behind him into a shouting frenzy.

 _"Alright. I'm gonna bit the robot."_

Another bang, and the robot toppled over, wiring and ceramic plated flying off in every direction from its 'head'.

Ren looked back from where the shots had come from, and saw Lawrence crouched behind a rock, his rifle propped up on some sort of bipod. He shot Ren a quick thumbs up.

 _"Let's keep them comin'."_

* * *

Back at the Avenger, only a few of the men had disembarked at once, the rest hanging back and trying to help the crew with repairs and getting the ship moving. Pyrrha recognized Declan, Adam, Jerry and Jack, but the man behind them, bedecked in piercings and wearing a large pair of dark-tinted goggles on his forehead was completely unfamiliar to her.

"Hey, Nikos Two! Come here!" Declan beckoned, waving an arm in Pyrrha's direction. Pyrrha nodded, jogging over to him and shifting Milò to rifle form.

"Okay, you know what we're doin'?" he asked.

"I believe I heard you say there was a jammer."

"You believe correctly, missy. Lo, I come with a plan. You're gonna use that metal-bendy shit and that shield of yours to help me and Remi over there cut a path through to the jammer, where we will make it explode with extreme prejudice. Then, we're gonna run back like all hell is on our heels, and g-t-fuck-outtahere. Any questions? No? Awesome, let's go!"

Pyrrha didn't have even a second to voice her objections before Declan was off at full sprint, 'Remi', the man with the piercings, following right after.

"Allons-y! Try and keep up!" the man jibed, smirking over his shoulder to reveal a trio of gold teeth.

Pyrrha shook her head, and followed along. These two were probably going to get seriously hurt if she didn't. Every few seconds, the report of a rifle would ring in the evening sky, probably one of the snipers that Pyrrha had noticed were in the room when they went to disembark. The enemy were still a safe distance away, but they were closing quickly, and they had quite a few robots tailing them.

Nothing too threatening, really.

Declan dove through the window of a small gas station, the glass shattering beneath his weight as he landed with a loud thud inside. Remi hopped through more graciously, while Pyrrha slowed down for a moment to actually climb through like a sane person, something that seemed to be in rather short supply around here.

"That went better in your head?" Remi asked?

"In my head, I landed on my feet," Declan muttered, brushing his arms and pulling himself to his feet. A few cuts trickled a bit of blood, but nothing serious. Well, it was actually really serious, because Pyrrha just realized something very, very crucial.

'These people don't have Aura.'

Yep. They were going to DIE.

Filing that information into the back of her mind for now, she looked to the slightly roughed up redneck with the axes. "So, now that you've done that, what now?"

"We wait and see where they're going, then we hit 'em from the flank, and cut through to the jammer," Declan explained. "I can already see gunfire, so it looks like everybody's got lines of sight."

"Hey, Delacroix!" Remi shouted, looking out of a nearby window. "What is that guy doing?"

"Lemme see." Declan scurried over to that window, peeking out and looking for the source of Remi's inquiry. "Oh, hey, it's Ren. Looks like he's spotting targets for Hamilton."

Pyrrha rushed over the moment she heard her teammate's name, and sure enough... there he was. He wasn't shooting at anything, simply looking around and calling out to someone occasionally, the loud bangs she'd been hearing up to now following almost immediately. That must be 'Hamilton'.

"I should go and help him," Pyrrha started, looking for the exit, only for Declan to grab her by the arm.

"Hooooold on a second missy, I need your help a lot more than he does. Look, he's fine!"

Pyrrha wasn't having any of that. She didn't have any sign of Jaune yet, Nora didn't follow her, and she was damn certain that she was going to watch her friends' backs as closely as possible, especially when the men she was ostensibly allied with threatened to kill her and her friends on a semi-regular basis. Jerking her arm out of Declan's grip, she ran for the door, throwing it open and taking a single step before a searing pain rose from her shoulder, her Aura doing absolutely nothing to dull the sudden impact.

"Sacre'-" Remi started, following out after her and grabbing her by the injured side, tossing her back as a hail of fire now flew in his direction, barely missing him as his rifle belched fire. He backpedaled towards Pyrrha moments later, looking over his own shoulder at her. "Lucky you! Didn't hit anything important!"

Pyrrha looked where his eyes went- sure enough, there was an angry red wound on her shoulder, blood trailing down in a thin, slowly-dropping curtain. She could still move her arm, although it certainly hurt. Her Aura still wasn't kicking in yet- as a matter of fact, she couldn't even feel it at all.

"Yeah, I know, it looks worse than it is, now come on! If you're going to run out like a madwoman, I'll cover you, but for the love of Mother Mary use that goddamn shield!"

Right. She had a shield. Taking that into account, Pyrrha started again, this time facing her front towards her assailants and using her shield to bat away the surprisingly slow projectiles. She wasn't going to be dodging bullets, but it wouldn't be hard to put her shield up in the face of this. She heard gunfire behind her- the loud, rapid staccato indicating that it was Remi doing the shooting... except that it was coming from behind her.

A smaller man came running up behind her, heavily favoring his right leg as he broke for cover a few yards away from Ren, a fallen tree. Fire kicked up dirt around him, but he managed to avoid any harm as he made it to his destination. Remi slid to a halt beside him, stopping at a crouch behind a wooden fence covered with a thin sheet of plate metal.

"Fancy meeting you here, Van Pey!"

"Not like we work together!" The other man shouted back.

It was only a long few seconds before Pyrrha made it over to Ren, ducking behind her shield and readying her rifle again. As little as she wanted to shoot anyone, it was becoming apparent she would have to.

"Are you alright?" Ren asked, looking pointedly at Pyrrha's shoulder.

"It's nothing time and Aura can't fix, if mine will start working!""

"Yours is malfunctioning as well?" Ren asked. "I noticed I felt a bit off after the last near-miss. Normally my Aura would have absorbed it, but nothing happened. It was working fine earlier."

"Same here. Never mind that, have you seen Jaune and Nora?"

"Nora's back with the others, but I've had no signs of Jaune." Ren peeked out of cover for a moment. "What was it you said about pink, naked ones? There's one going near the treeline to my far left."

There was a dull chatter from around Ren's ear, and another bang.

"That did it. So, Jaune is most likely with the others. Should we go back, or wait here?"

"It sounds like they need us more here," Pyrrha replied. "Declan said they're going to try and destroy the jammer that's keeping their airship grounded."

"Right. And where is Declan right now?"

"He and another soldier just moved up from the gas station." Sure enough, when Pyrrha turned to make sure, Declan has joined Remi and 'Van Pey', and the three seemed to be hatching a plan. Suddenly, Remi turned and started shouting over to Pyrrha and Ren.

"Back up! Back up! Move back!"

Pyrrha turned her head back forward and noticed something she hadn't seen before- a rather large group of enemy combatants sprinting full speed at them, some carrying only guns, others with light armor and what appeared to be batons or swords of some kind.

"Well I suppose that answers our question." Ren was immediately turning on his heels, firing Stormflower behind his back, beckoning for Pyrrha to follow. No sooner did she turn around and start running did she find herself staring down the sight of a pistol.

Adam's pistol.

* * *

Adam fired, the bullet arcing just over the stupefied redhead who seemed indignant that he'd point his gun in her direction. Well, if she wanted to be a tosser, that wasn't his problem. The target-rich environment in front of him, though? Much more so.

Once the redhead realized she hadn't been and wouldn't be targeted did she start running again, at a speed Adam himself would be hard pressed to match. Hamilton's little fairy was even faster- he was already headed for the line.

"Sarge! Declan, Wes, and Remi are still out there!" Jerry shouted over, looking over a fallen soldier with a sucking chest wound, trying to see if there was anything he could do for him. It didn't look like it.

"Are they daft?"

"More like 'really pissed at that jammer!'"

"Shit!" With that, Adam came out of cover again, fanning the hammer of his pistol and dropping one of the Stun Lancers chasing the kids. "Who's coming next up on the line?"

"Roderick and Phil!"

"Bang on, then. Once we wait out this wave we'll try and push the line up! Where's the other two kids?"

"Hiiiiiiiii!" Nora shouted from behind a barricade, grenade launcher in hand.

"Right here!" Jaune was right next to her, his shield propped on the barrier and... nothing else.

"You gonna actually fight?" Jerry asked.

"I can't hit them at this range!"

"Oh, so THIS ONE doesn't have a gun! Lovely!" Adam shouted. "Jeremy, who's the dead man?"

"Wade!" he replied.

"Well, fuck me sideways. Give me his gun."

Jerry kicked the solid black rifle over to Adam, who kicked it to Jaune. "Try not to shoot yourself you pillock."

Ren and Pyrrha clambered over the barricade, the latter immediately bringing her rifle to her shoulder and opening fire, while Ren took one of his handguns and continued to call targets for Hamilton. Jaune had grabbed Wade's gun, but he hadn't fired a single shot yet. This DEEPLY annoyed Adam, especially now that the Stun Lancers were actually within spitting distance of their defensive line.

"Aw, hell!" Jack shouted, attempting to mow down the lion's share with his cannon, scoring precious few kills before the baton-wielding ADVENT were literally getting in his face. Adam whipped a second pistol out from his belt and shot one of the lancers harassing him, before facing front and doing the same to a soldier charging him. Jerry continued firing, not even flinching as a Lancer that landed next to him was immediately pinned to the wall by Phillipe's cannon fire. Another Lancer was met with a faceful of shield as Pyrrha threw the disc at him, cracking his visor wide open and knocking him out cold, but leaving her shield out in the open. Color Adam _fucking_ impressed by that one.

"It's still not working!" Pyrrha shouted to Ren, drawing a concerned look from both Jerry and Roderick, the latter of whom immediately sprung into action, planting his boot over the barricade and into the face of a Lancer while he was in mid swing, before pumping a burst into his chest.

"What's not working? The magnet thing?" Jerry asked, popping out of cover and dropping two of the Lancers with precise shots. "Son of a!"

"Well, don't you look stupid, Jerry?" Jack asked, sneering from behind his cannon.

"It was my idea!" Roderick retorted. "Looks like they're slowing down! We should push up!"

"Right. Declan! How are you goin'?" Adam called out, turning on his earpiece.

 _"We're moving on up! No idea how long it'll take with all these MECs in the way. Could use a diversion!"_

Adam groaned "Well, you got one. Let's go!"

Adam hopped the barricade first, a burst of ADVENT fire just missing him as he rolled to a knee, firing a single shot into the visor of his assailant.

He was starting to slow down. Not good.

Jerry hopped over the barricade after him, as did Roderick, the kids, and a couple of other youngbloods, Watanabe and Brady. Adam motioned for them to follow, headed back for the fence line Ren and Pyrrha had first stopped at. ADVENT seemed to have a slowly-advancing rear-line, as they were being shot at rather ferociously the moment they got out of cover. Brady was almost immediately dropped, struck in the head by one of the MEC's Mag Cannons. Hamilton's rifle reported rapidly, each shot sailing into the ADVENT lines and providing limited relief. Though there were less enemies immediately on the ground by a long shot, there were plenty of transports arriving.

Adam's back slammed forcefully into a tree as he hunkered down, intent on weathering out the storm here until Declan and Company blew up the jammer. Holstering his pistol and pulling up his rifle, he stepped out of cover for a moment to try and line up a shot, eventually training on an ADVENT Commander looking rather intently at him, and pointing vigorously.

 _Hello to you, too._

A single shot to the chest dropped the Commander, but Adam suddenly realized why the ADVENT was pointing. Twin MECs leaned forward, the massive grenade tubes on their backs racking a round, and it most certainly wasn't going to be smoke.

"Incoming!"

"Crap, crap, crap!" Jerry dropped to a knee behind the fence, covering his face with his forearm, as did most of the men in the line- except for Roderick.

Adam, much like Roderick, were instead focused on the fact that the grenades were currently floating in midair.

"What. The fuck. Is that?"

"It's workin' now!" Roderick shouted, grinning ear to ear.

The grenades exploded harmlessly in midair, with Pyrrha, arm outstretched, looking rather pleased with herself. "For now at least. I don't know how much longer- my Aura is extremely weak, and I can feel it draining!""

"Well let's take advantage of it!" Adam replied. "Can you do anything to those MECs?"

"I can try!"

"I need execution!"

Pyrrha concentrated on the MECs, who in turn were looking at her. Not an ideal situation.

"Draw their fire!" Adam shouted, and Watanabe immediately complied, rushing blindly out of cover to try and present himself as a target, the MECs immediately turning to and firing at him. To the shock of everyone, including ADAM, every shot missed as Watanabe dropped down behind a concrete wall, sending Adam a thumbs up.

Out of the Corner of his eye, Adam looked back over at the MEC units, noting that their grenade launchers were slowly warping and twisting on their backs, facing one another. When the robots went to fire another set of grenades, there was a sudden fireball, parts and shrapnel flying in every direction.

"That did it!"

"Heck yeah it did!" Jerry shouted. "Nice one!"

 _"That was some slick shit,"_ Hamilton agreed.

 _"HOLY SHIT, Sergeant! I don't know what the hell that was, but I am FULLY IN FAVOR of you doing it again!"_ Remi shouted. _"Alright, looks like we've got an opening!"_

Adam looked over at the kids, Nora grinning ear to ear, and Ren giving Pyrrha a slightly more subdued grin, while Jaune went full in for a shield bash of some sort. Looks like they figured they were out of the woods. Adam wasn't exactly going to go that far, but whether they were trouble or not, he couldn't say now that they were just dead weight. He definitely was going to hold off on shooting them, that much was for sure.

They had their ticket for now.

As more ADVENT transports headed for ground, he could make out Declan and company making their way to the jammer. Moment of truth.

* * *

Lawrence's rifle rested against the rocks as he waited for the next transport to unload its (non)-human cargo. The operation was going... unusually well. Only two or three KIA. This was definitely a better showing than recent months.

What was it his old CO had said? 1 was a tragedy, 1000 was a tactical defeat... something like that.

Whatever. Commander jumping off the transport.

Commander going back into the transport, sans the majority of his head. Tragic.

He'd seen that shit the redheaded alien/kid/person/entity pulled off with the ... whatever that was. Some fucking Jedi shit. Pretty interesting stuff. Definitely useful. Was she a Sike? Didn't have the purple eyes or white hair, so didn't seem likely.

Leave that shit to the labcoats. Wasn't his place.

Remi, Declan, and Wes went in on the jammer. Good. Someone needed to hit that thing before he fell the fuck asleep on this rock. Wasn't as fun when they didn't shoot back at him.

Another MEC standing by the jammer. He fired. The robot fell over, now missing a CPU.

A Sectoid looked at him, dead in the eye with those beady black glass balls that were doing a really shitty imitation of eyes. It fired its little wrist pistol at him, and missed entirely. The shot whizzed harmlessly over his head, and he returned fire. He didn't miss.

An ADVENT trooper duo standing near turned to fire on him, one of them immediately catching an axe to the back, the other getting his back turned to Swiss by assault rifle fire. Remi was the first to cross the threshold into his LOS.

 _"Much obliged, mon ami! Now we can take this thing out and go home!"_

 _"Don't get cocky now,"_ Van Pey warned. _"We're stuck all the way behind enemy lines."_

"Relax," Lawrence assured them. "I'll make sure you guys make it back. I got you in my sights."

Remi sent him a thumbs up before turning his attention to the jammer. He readied a grenade, as did Van Pey and Declan. The three of them threw their explosives, one after the other, the ensuing explosion ripping the jammer to shreds in a ball of green and orange fire.

"Nice."

 _"Get fucked! Jammer's down!"_ Van Pey shouted.

 _"Excellent work, Avenger's systems are coming back online. Get back aboard so we can evac,"_ Bradford ordered.

 _"Alright, lads, lasses, and freaks of nature, we're not getting out of here till those three get back, so get ready to lay down some lead. Who's on the deck?"_ Adam looked around the line, then back up at Lawrence, giving him a sly grin and a nod.

 _"Philippe here. We're good. Come on back."_

Lawrence went back to his rifle, aiming at a landing transport near the retreating trio, and fired, drawing the attention of those on board as a Lancer went sailing out of the craft with a noticeably emptier head. Another shot as the ship landed, and a trooper attempting to fire on Declan was dropped.

Click.

Lawrence dropped the magazine out of his rifle, and reached for another, only to find he'd finally run out of bullets.

"Shit. Out of ammo, Sergeant. I'm headed back in."

 _"Thanks for the work, Lawrence. See you inside."_

By the time Declan, Remi, and Wesley had made it back to the line, ADVENT was starting to arrive in force. In a fit of organized chaos, XCOM's men on the ground were attempting to beat a fighting retreat.

Jerry noted that executing that particular strategy was proving to be quite difficult, as almost everyone not named Menace or Hitman Team was just ready to get the heck out of dodge. It was a long run, with little cover, a lot of enemy fire, and a lot to worry about. Jerry was a bit envious of these new kids, because all of them, especially Ren, ran like freaking gazelles. Pyrrha bolted past him like a red bullet while BACKPEDALING for crying out loud, and Ren was even faster than that. Maybe it was just all the med gear that was so heavy, come to think of it.

Jerry tumbled over a fence, with Jaune and Roderick following right behind him, the latter ducking behind Jaune to take advantage of his shield as he did so. Despite being a sweaty, exhausted mess, Roderick looked fit to be tied.

"Man, that was some shit!" the big man exclaimed, grinning ear to ear at Jerry. "I think I'm starting to like these kids!"

"Thanks! I guess." Jaune smiled nervously from behind his shield. It was obvious he was NOT enjoying the combat experience.

"Yeah, they're doin' good," Jerry agreed, reloading his rifle. "Don't really favor putting them in the line of fire, but it gets results."

"Alright, let's keep going!" Roderick slapped Jaune on the back of his chestplate, taking off into a sprint as Jaune turned to follow, putting his shield up on his back, leaving Jerry to clamber after them, mag bolts whizzing just past his head.

Sometimes, every once in a while, he just really, really hated this job.

It was obvious Jaune wasn't huge on the whole sprinting thing, as he was starting to slow down substantially. While Roderick didn't concern himself with it, still dead running towards the landing platform, Jerry hung back, trying to make light of the likely quite stressful events.

"Don't do this often?" Jerry asked.

"Not really!" Jaune replied, his voice matching his evident exhaustion.

"Come on, just a little further and we're home free."

After maybe a few more yards, the platform, and by extension, the two Grenadiers pouring fire from behind it, were within spitting distance, and Jerry pushed Jaune over the barricade.

"Who in God's name invited the children?" Phil asked, a bit annoyed.

"I told you the fucking aliens were crazy! I saw ALL OF THAT SHIT, and it was AWESOME! I still say we should kill them, but THAT WAS COOL," Jack gushed, pointing at Jaune as he lowered his cannon. "Can you do that shit?"

"No!"

"Good, we've got one we can afford to sacrifice! Jerry, throw him back over!"

"Just shut up and start closing the doors!" Phil shouted, backing up slowly as Jerry pulled Jaune to his feet and ran inside the Avenger's loading bay. Once they and the Grenadiers loaded in, the doors began to close more rapidly, and the engines of the Avenger fires up, causing the airship to shake rapidly.

"Jesus CHRIST that was intense!" Declan shouted.

"If I can go the rest of my cursed days on this shithole of a planet without doing that again, it'll still be too soon!" Remi agreed.

"Just shut up and get your shit squared away, we're taking off!" Lawrence ordered. "Come on, it's not holiday yet!"

Jerry took a moment to sit down, grabbing his helmet and letting his head get some proper ventilation for a change. Jaune attempted to sit down next to him, only to fall flat on his ass and end up laid out on his back.

Jerry couldn't help but bust out laughing at that.

* * *

 **Author's note time!  
**  
 **Why yes, I'm back from the dead. Why yes, I'm crossposting from AO3. Why, yes, I'm trying this again. I still got a few chapters left in reserve before I have to start writing new shit, but for now, I just wanna write in bits and pieces. Everything will be sporadic with this fic, but I assure you, it will have my full attention.  
**

 **Feel free to leave your feedback in the comments, be it constructive, praise, or just plain being an asshole. I read them all, I cherish them all.**


	5. Chapter 5

Well, Roderick didn't know what he was expecting to happen after that.

Currently, he, Adam, Murphy, Jerry, Alex, Declan, Remi, Tygan, Shen, Bradford, and The Commander were huddled around her office, and the Chief Engineer looked pretty miffed.

Everybody was looking solely at Roddy.

"Okay," he started, his tone even. "Let me just start by saying... nothing went wrong and you cannot blame me for this."

"He's got a point there," Jerry agreed.

"Yep." Murph too.

"Stealing materiel from Engineering is not going to fly, period." Bradford gave Roderick a stern look, before immediately looked over at Shen. "But you can't say that it didn't work out in our favor. This time, anyway."

"Indeed," Tygan agreed. "We have a powerful new asset at our disposal, capable of things that most would deem impossible- the possibilities are astounding, especially if I were to study how they perform such feats firsthand."

"Hold on," Adam interrupted. "Pyrrha said it 'wasnt working right.' Their... 'powers' or whatever they are are inconsistent. We can't count on them in a combat situation. Hell, one of them even says they don't have those powers- fact check me on that, Jerry."

"Yep. Jaune doesn't have any special gimmicks."

"However..." Declan cut in, loud and proud, "these kiddos have one thing going in their favor in the meantime! They have... drumroll... COMBAT EXPERIENCE."

"Gotta admit, if they fight those things that we saw in the cave on a daily basis, they're probably pretty badass in a fight." Alexios nodded his agreement, looking over to the Commander. "I got an idea."

"Let's hear it."

"I say we take them along for the Tower Op. Now, hear me out on this. I know, this is sensitive stuff, but it's also going to be in a closed environment with heavy enemy security- judging by the fact the kids were targeted, it's a good bet that they're not infiltrators, but if the security systems target them too? Almost a certainty that they're not. On top of that, if their powers work..."

"With all due respect, Corporal, that idea is absolute shite, and I'm shutting it down now," Adam interrupted. "We absolutely WILL not compromise Shen's safety. Even if the kids aren't hostiles I don't trust them. They're children."

"Children that apparently have experience fighting things that are literally monsters, Adam. If you're so worried, I'm not suggesting THEY and the ones to escort Shen. I'm saying we all should be."

"We've never run with a team bigger than 6, Commander," Murphy spoke up.

"Doesn't mean we can't try. Shen, three of our guys, and the kids," Roderick suggested. "Only two more warm bodies than we're used to."

"I think we're ignoring something important, guys." Jerry stopped them, looking over at Lily. "Chief. You cool with all this?"

"I'd be more cool with it if I had backup besides them, yeah. I don't know what to make of them yet, but seeing their tech in action would probably help me with studying it."

"Most definitely," Tygan agreed. "Commander, I believe this course of action may be the best one. The children will be able to build up a sense of trust with our operatives, and vice versa, while we get valuable research data- plus, the extra hands to protect Chief Engineer Shen in the event the mission goes unexpectedly awry."

The Commander nodded slowly, looking around the room. "Alright. Anyone NOT in favor of this?"

"I'm absolutely against it," Adam spoke up.

"No from me," Remi followed.

"I gotta say, it's not the best idea I've heard, either," Roderick agreed, much to the shock of those in the room.

"Well? Any specifics?"

"Ma'am, I don't think they warrant this sort of trust this soon, if ever at all. This was SUPPOSED to be a temporary arrangement until we found a place for them to stay while we get them home."

"That was before we found out they had superpowers, Adam. And trust me, I'm gonna have three of our best on this one to make absolutely sure there's no bullshit. Remi?"

"You're literally asking the fireteam to babysit a bunch of kids."

"From what I've seen, mate, they don't need babysitting," Murph corrected him.

"Noted. It's not ideal, but the fact is, these 'kids' have abilities that not even the aliens can imitate. We need to see if we can figure out a way to make that work for our own. Rod?"

"I don't feel comfortable putting teenagers in the middle of a possible hot zone."

"Then why did you give them the weapons earlier, Private?"

Roderick opened his mouth to respond, but stopped dead as he realized he had no answer to that. "... shit."

"Alright then. By the way, grab a sword from the armory, Ranger. You've earned it. As for the operation, I'm sending you, McAuley, and Hall to deal with the escort part of the mission. We're gonna give you a bit of R&R after that last scuffle, plus time for Tygan to possibly get the new prototypes out of the door, but by next week, we're gonna be going hardcore. As for now, I want you to get those kids together and teach them how we operate. You've got a good 5 days to get them up to speed. I'm going to observe it from afar and create something resembling combat doctrine for them to work with after this operation. In the meantime, Shen will take a few days to get a look at their weapons before the operation. Then, on D-Day, we'll ask 'em to pitch in. If they do, great, if they refuse, we'll just go with our guys, as was the original plan. Once it's over, we'll see about Tygan possibly applying their tech for our use. Any questions?" The Commander looked around the room, seeking further objections.

None were raised.

"Alright. Good luck, men. Keep me posted."

* * *

The first thing Sophie noticed about Adam when he reentered the dormitory was that he was PISSED.

"Sir?"

"Not in a talking mood, Thomas."

Lawrence pushed down his sunglasses, slivers of brown only just visible as he glared at Adam. "You made your bed, Jones."

"I made my bed? I made it? You listen here, Yank, I've had about e-fuckin'-nough of this bloody farce we're calling an organization at this point. We're seriously considering putting a bunch of underaged kids in a combat zone just because Roderick did something retarded and it managed to not explode in our faces. We are literally at the peak of idiocy right now."

"You ask me, peak idiocy is you still trying to swing your dick around when Pyrrha alone is capable of theoretically bricking this ship."

"Oh, what the hell is she gonna do, Lawrence?"

"Adam. There are four of them, and one of you. Let's assume that you have Jack and Philippe on your side, since they also don't really like these kids. Now it's three on 4. One of them, as I just stated, can likely brick this ship, and at the very least bend steel and probably rip your guns out of your hands. She is also bigger than any woman and the majority of the men on this boat. That's just ONE of them. I don't even know what superpowers the other three have, but they have tech that makes us look like we're still in the 'fix bayonets and load your muskets' era. You'd get your ass whupped. Now, let's say there's a fistfight for some reason. Two of them have size on you. All of them are trained to fight monsters, so it would stand to reason they know how to fight with their hands. Jack is a complete lunatic who has no idea how to actually fight, Phil's slow as a dump truck, and you're getting old. You would get your ass whupped, and then Bradford would get pissed and bust your ass. I can already tell that this is gonna cause a fight if it keeps going, so I suggest you just keep your mouth shut and roll with it. I, for one, find these children quite useful."

"The fact that you apparently used one for bait nonwithstanding," Sophie cut in.

"Not bait. Spotter. If I wanted to use him for bait I'd have told him to stand up. He's good at it, might ask Central if I can drag him out again on our next op. Quiet too, unlike the rest of you."

Adam groaned aloud, kicking the impromptu bedroll for Jaune, the bag-pillow tumbling towards the door. "We were already having enough trouble just letting anyone into this bloody organization, look at Declan! Look at Duvalier! Look at YOU!" He gestured at Sophie, which DEFINITELY caught Lawrence's full attention.

"You watch what you say," Lawrence started.

"He does have a point," Sophie conceded quietly. "Ever since I got on board our standards have been pretty low."

"We're desperate for men. You volunteered. What were we gonna do, tell you to go fuck yourself?" Lawrence asked, before pointing at Adam. "Don't fucking start."

"We aren't a bed and breakfast, Lawrence, and if we took on every homeless child that wandered up to our door we'd have to open up a primary in the GTS."

"Sophie's done more than pull her weight since she got here, and so has everyone else, Adam. You complain about not having soldiers? Look at me, Adam. There are no soldiers left. Most of us are too old to fight- I know for a fact if I had to do what the Rangers or Grenadiers do, I'd break something out there. Murphy's continued exertion should have given him a coronary by now, and I still don't know how he does it. We are the exceptions to the general rule, and 3 men isn't a resistance, it's a gang. We have to take what we can get. Vaguely alien children included, if a bit cautiously. Besides- it's a temporary arrangement. We study them, see if we can co-opt their tech, and then we send them home."

"I'm trying to understand why you're paranoid, sir, I really am," Sophie followed, frowning, "but we're not going to go anywhere without helping hands. If these kids were infiltrators, why would they have told us they were aliens? Why would they have brought up that they're in an unfamiliar place, and why would they have come out there and helped us without anyone even doing so much as asking? Just because Roddy gave them the weapons and Jerry gave them armor doesn't mean that they had to fight. They chose to. They stuck their necks out for us. One of them got shot for us."

"Shoulder wound."

"Adam, I don't think it bloody well matters where she got shot. None of them have bitched or complained about this situation even once. They've done what we asked, and asked for a pittance in return- just a way to get home. And I think, personally, it would do you some good to practice some fucking Christian charity and suck it up for a few weeks until we get them home."

Silence filled the Menace team bunks, broken only by a long, amused whistle from the doorway. Adam twitched ever so slightly, and he turned to the door. Declan smirked back.

"Hey, boss. Guess what?"

"What do you FUCKING want?"

"We get to help Hitman prep the kids for the operation."

"I'm sorry, I think you misspoke."

"Nope." Declan's smirk only grew wider. "If you would come with me, we can go ahead and get this over with."

"Oh, fuck me. It's just us and Hitman?"

"Yep. Commander's gonna be making sure it all goes smoothly."

"About as smooth as sandpaper, let's go."

Declan stepped out of the doorway as Adam stormed out, following the foul-tempered Welshman out and down the hall.

Sophie looked over at Lawrence once they'd gone, frankly, she was feeling a bit rocked by that exchange.

"You're a help," Lawrence assured her. "You're doin' everything you can, and we can't ask more than that."

"But you need more than a homeless teenager who can barely shoot straight, right?"

Lawrence sighed.

"Yeah. Yeah, we do. But that's no fault of yours. You just got here what, a month ago? Keep training, keep giving it time. As much as it may not seem like it, we all have each others' backs up here. Even us old boys, the ones who have been through a lot, we watch out for everyone. Not just each other, the new blood, the kids like you. We all work together."

"Then why is Adam having such a problem with the new ones? It's not like we've given them free reign. They're constantly being monitored, we don't let them into sensitive areas of the ship. What's the deal?"

"To be fair, Sophie, the last group of extraterrestrial individuals who came to Earth killed his friends and took over the world. You think we're being cautious? To him, it probably looks like we're rolling out the red carpet."

* * *

"Okay, hold still for me."

Jaune wasn't really digging the infirmary. It was dark as all get out in there, not to mention a bit claustrophobic, and unnaturally sterile- okay, most hospitals were like that, but the point stood. It was creepy. Thankfully JNPR's visit wasn't a long one. Jerry had insisted on making sure they were okay after the fight. Nora, Ren, and himself were fine, but apparently Pyrrha got hit. Jerry'd waved off his concern, said it was just a flesh wound, but still, she was his partner. There was a sense he'd failed at some personal responsibility.

"I'm very, very confused," Jerry muttered. "Nothing's broken, the round seems to have not gone all the way through, and it doesn't look like you got shot. Entry wound is too small, and it's already scabbing."

There was a slight crackle of reddish-black light, and Jerry leaned back, looking up at his 'patient'. Pyrrha raised an eyebrow.

"That. It happened again. What is it?"

"My Aura is evidently malfunctioning. I don't know why. Ever since we came through that portal, all of our Auras have been very spotty."

"Okay, but what IS an Aura?" Jerry asked. "Some kind of healing factor?"

"It's the manifestation of our soul in the physical world- it allows us to heal our injuries, take less damage in combat, and also acts as a power source for our Semblances. It's what makes us suited for combat against the Grimm-"

"We can take a beatin' and dish one out, too!" Nora finished.

Jerry made an indecipherable noise as he continued to examine the wound.

"You probably don't believe me, do you?" Pyrrha asked.

"Normally, I would say no. But you got shot three hours ago. Right now, it looks like you got stabbed with a pen knife a week ago. You can bend forks and twist metal like it's nothing. Pyrrha, if you told me Jesus Christ was coming back right now, I'd already be saying my Hail Mary."

Now, everyone just looked confused.

"Who's Jesus?" Jaune asked.

"Dead guy that people think is the son of God. It's an Earth thing. I don't put much stock in it, but we have a priest on the ship." Jerry stood up, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a length of wrapping, tossing it to Pyrrha. "Wrap that up, please. I dunno if your Aura protects you from infection, but I'd rather not take a chance. By the way... I'm not supposed to be the one to tell you this, but our people are really, really interested in you. What you can do, what your tech is like, all that. I just wanted to warn you that there's a lot of stuff that's gonna get thrown at you really soon, and nobody is gonna think less of you for saying 'no'."

"I would not be so certain about that," Pyrrha replied.

"Oh?"

"My friends and I have been threatened repeatedly by some of 'your people' just for being lost. I'd wager that if we didn't help, such treatment would only get worse. I'm tired of the hostility- if you can't trust us, why do you want us to fight for you?"

"First of all," Jerry started, closing the cabinet, "I trust you. Second of all, Command trusts you, albeit under watch. There are others who are batting for you, for different reasons, but a lot of people are pretty paranoid. There's a reason for it, though, and it's not because you're just lost. You're aliens."

"I mean, to us, you guys are aliens, technically," Jaune countered.

"That would be right, but you treat us like humans. Hey, Jaune, those 'Grimm' you guys fight? Are there some that can disguise themselves as humans?"

"Not that I know of."

"Yeah. Wait till you meet a Faceless. It always throws the rookies for a loop. Or kills them."

"If you don't mind me asking," Pyrrha interrupted again, stepping off the bed she'd been resting against while Jerry looked her over, "why are you so afraid of aliens? I've heard people talking about 'sectoids' and 'ADVENT' and 'aliens', but nothing really conclusive. I can somewhat infer from the paranoia surrounding our arrival that something's happened with said aliens before."

"Like, an alien invasion, or something?" Jaune asked.

"Bingo." Jerry pointed at Jaune. "About 20 years ago, back when I was just a toddler, aliens attacked Earth. Humans fought back, and we lost. Hard. They rebuilt the world in their image, basically subjugated humanity, all the while preaching that they 'liberated us'. Life sucked before they showed up, but at least we had the opportunity to make it better. It was a broken world, yeah, but it was ours. Now, we're fighting to take it back."

"That sounds like a difficult proposition," Ren spoke up.

"Some think it impossible. I don't think we got the memo."

"So, you're all soldiers?" Jaune asked.

"No. Not real soldiers, anyway. We're closer to a paramilitary. Semi-formal training, made mostly of misfits, runaways, and volunteers. I was a college med student before I joined up. Roderick was an actor. Remi was a tattoo artist. Murphy is one of the few actual soldiers here. We're all just mad enough at the aliens that we were willing to grab guns and say 'screw it, let's do it,' and try to take back our planet."

"That's pretty brave of you guys."

"Some call it stupid."

"Well, we don't!" Nora spoke up, grinning. "Pretty badass, actually!"

"It takes a lot of bravery to fight a war against impossible odds," Ren agreed.

"Well, hopefully we win it. I don't know what's gonna happen if we don't."

Jerry shifted awkwardly for a moment, looking over at JNPR from his place by the cabinet. Jaune wondered why he was so uneasy- he said he trusted them.

"You really shouldn't be involved in this."

"But we are," Jaune replied, "and were going to do what we can to help. It's the least we can do."

"I dunno about everyone else, but, I appreciate it. Anyways, can you do me a favor and follow me? Now that you're cleared, the boss lady wants us to talk to you as a team. Adam's gonna be there, so... prepare yourself."

"Oh, joy." Pyrrha flipped her hair off her shoulder, narrowing her eyes over at Nora.

"Yeah, not the legs, I knooooooow," Nora moaned. "I never get to have any fun!"

* * *

Remi Duvalier did not know why in the hell Assassin Team got a call for this meetup with the kids, but he had a few ideas, considering Adam was the one who called, and he called specifically for Remi and Phil. As much as Remi didn't trust those new kids, he trusted Adam even less. Phil didn't share his sentiment.

"Duvalier?"

"Oui?"

The big man, for once, had his helmet off, revealing his stark blonde hair and thin beard, over a boyish face that didn't match his thundering voice at all. "What do you make of all this? You haven't said much."

"It makes no difference to me who or what they are. I just want them gone," Remi answered. He was only being honest- these kids were a liability. More mouths to feed, more hands to keep busy, more backs to watch. He had enough on his plate, especially now that, with Wade and Brady both dying in rapid succession, he was the leader of Assassin Team.

He did not need these kids.

"As interesting as their abilities may be, I agree. It's too much of a security risk to keep them aboard."

Phil was unofficially the Sergeant At Arms of the reformed XCOM, keeping the peace and maintaining order among the rank. Considering that the man was 7 feet tall he managed it quite excellently. Nobody picked a fight with him until that girl came aboard and bowed up to him. Remi had to respect that. Anyone who just casually strolled up on day one and stood toe to toe with a survivor of the Nutcracker* had brass genitals, a death wish, no regard for their safety, or all 3. Even if this 'Pyrrha' had no idea where the Nutcracker was, he could infer that she at least had the cast-metal ovaries down pat.

Well. Now she had to deal with two of them.

"Yeah. I don't see a reason to throw them into the line of fire when we can't even trust them with their own weapons. Even if that metalbending shit was fucking amazing."

"I saw the explosion. She really bent the MECs up?"

"Yep. Turned their grenades on them. It was something else."

"Maybe they're more useful- and dangerous- than we thought."

"That appears to be the point of our little escapade, Philly. To determine which of those two they are."

"I'd say both."

"Fair point."

Hitman Team was already in the GTS, In various states of combat readiness, as were the four kids. While the kids acted indifferent to their arrival, Hitman was far more opinionated.

"Oh, hell," Alexios muttered. "So, who called the killjoys?"

"I didn't do nothin', Officer," Roderick whined, throwing up his hands in faux-surrender.

"Oh, shut up. Adam called us," Remi explained.

"News to me." Murph cut his eyes at the smaller of the two Assassin members. "Why?"

"Beats me senseless," Remi answered. "I just know we're explaining the situation and teaching the kids how we operate. So, when's Adam getting here?"

"No idea."

Remi sighed, looking over at the kids- the first thing he noticed was 'Pyrrha', the girl with the shoulder wound. She appeared to be able to move the shoulder just fine.

"You appear to be doing just fine," he said.

"I am, thank you."

Remi 'hmph'ed before turning back to the door, waiting for Large and In Charge, and sure enough, there he was. His signature stocking cap was nowhere to be found, leaving the wild blonde mop beneath it free and unobstructed. Declan, behind him, had also gone without his usually ever-present Bears cap, and he'd shaved something fierce, leaving only a thin stubble around that ridiculous mustache.

"Adam," Murphy greeted him.

"Murph. We got the stuff set up?"

"Ready when you are."

"Well, I look about ready, don't I?"

"Don't cop a mood with me, son. Alex?"

Alexios nodded, fiddling with HAV-C as the kids watched, somewhat amused.

"Is that some kind of drone?" 'Jaune' asked, looking the most interested of the four.

"Yep. This here is HAV-C. He's one of our two Gremlin field drones, the other being M3R-C, Jerry's med drone. Say hi, HAV-C."

The drone chirped loudly, blinking it's lights at Jaune before turning around and turning on some sort of display. The Lost Towers zoomed into view, complete with a diagram of the building up to the last floor Recon had gotten to, which is to say, not nearly far enough. Murph stepped toward the projection, cracking his knuckles.

"A'right. So, this is Lost Towers. Formerly an ADVENT R&D facility. According to our intel it was used during the MEC development to build and house the ADVENT mechanized units. We've found no signs of life in the facility itself, but there's a signal hitting the Avenger that appears to be coming from the top of the tower, up here."

Murph pointed at the top floors of the tower, then down at a platform jutting from the side of the building. "This here is the landing pad where they loaded the MECs for transport out of the factory facilities, and sent them to the line. We're gonna be inserting here." Another tap, and the faces of Jerry, Murphy, Alexios, and Chief Engie Shen came into view. 4 empty slots remained, each marked with one of the childrens' names. "Once we land, we're going to go inside, reccie the site, then head up to the source of the signal, eliminating the automated security as we go. We have exactly one shot at this op- the systems are ablative, and they seem to be operating just fine, so if we don't knock them out now, it'll be almost impossible to knock them out in the future. The facility's learned from our previous scouting runs and is locking off our options."

"There may be some sort of base AI running the system," Alexios added. "I used to design Dumb AI for ADVENT, wouldn't surprise me if it was being put to use here."

"Right. So, here's the plan," Murphy continued, the map behind him condensing to just the portraits. "Kids, you will be sticking to Shen and Alexios like rubber on glue. They're going to be busy hitting the defenses and getting us into the building's systems, while me and Jerry bust up anything that gets in the way. It's looking like a long, drawn out affair, but between eight people, it should be manageable, especially once we get you up to speed on training. That's why Adam's here."

Adam nodded. "Central's appointed me to drag you lot into understanding our combat doctrine, and where you fit in it for this operation- long story short, you don't. Stay out of the fucking way, and protect Shen. That's your directive. Simple, right?"

The kids nodded, the redhead with unnaturally read hair locking eyes with Adam while she did it. Some kind of power play or something? Remi didn't know, but it certainly was ballsy.

"Alright, so," Adam continued. "I've been asked to test your combat effectiveness as well, make sure you're up to par. Part of that is checking your hand to hand skills."

Pyrrha continued to stare down Adam, who didn't break their staring contest even as he pointed to Jaune. "You get to play with Declan, John-Boy, Remi and Phil will pair off with Ren and Nora, and I-" He pointed then at Pyrrha, smirking. "- get to wipe that look off your face."

Pyrrha immediately stood up, revealing to Remi that it wasn't a combat hallucination- she was actually six feet tall, at least, and without the armor, she still looked like a damn street fighter. She had better biceps alone than half the men on the ship, legs that looked carved from solid rock, and overall just looked like she was ready to whup Adam's ass. To Adam's credit, despite having to chin up at the young woman, he didn't seem the least bit intimidated by the size difference, and Remi seriously doubted the age difference would mean shit.

"Are you sure you need to test us, or is this some sort of attempt to 'haze' us?"

"Pardon me, Redwood, but I didn't recall you having any right to question me."

"I don't know, you've been acting rather threatening to my team, and now you're saying you're going to 'wipe this look off my face'. It doesn't sound like this is just an examination to you, Sergeant. If you want to take your paranoid anger out on Jaune, myself, and my friends, go ahead. And when I knock you flat on your back, maybe you'll show us some respect for a change, no?"

Pyrrha proceeded to smile innocently down at him. "Sorry if that was rude."

Adam's smirk morphed into a cat-like grin. "Uh-huh. Sit down. Philly, you and the kid are up first. Try not to break him."

Philippe walked over to one side, motioning over at Ren. "Come on."

Remi wasn't sure what to expect, but there was one thing he could reasonably infer from the heated look Pyrrha was giving Adam, the determined glare Nora gave him, Ren's seeming peace with going up against his giant compatriot, and Declan's creepy leering at an extremely nervous Jaune.

This was gonna be bad.

Once Ren and Phil had squared off, it looked pretty one-sided. Ren was a small, wiry lad, a twig compared to Phil. Then again, he seemed to be on that oriental martial arts bullshit, so maybe he had some whack-ass secret techniques or some shit to smack the big man with.

Well, he was about to find out.


	6. Chapter 6

To say that her plans had been stymied would be a gross misappraisal of the situation.

To say that her plans needed to be amended, however, was much more on the nose.

Cinder Fall wasn't exactly sure what on Remnant this thing was, but she'd seen her power firsthand. Emerald was nursing a minor concussion. Mercury hobbled along on one metal leg. Junior was battered and bruised something fierce. Roman was pretty much the only one to get away unscathed.

Well, other than Ezekiel. She should have seen that coming- he had no reason to be truly loyal to her. He had power, power perhaps even comparable to her current state, even if he refused to use it. But no, she could sense it, and she WANTED it.

She needed to find him, and take it, and now, she may just have the means to.

They'd captured the beast, 'Subject Beta', and Cinder had restrained her in a construct of her mistresses' design. No easy feat to get her in there, but beating the thing senseless enough seemed to do the trick. She'd been given the means to tamper with the beast, as well, and she was about ready to get to work on just that. Alas, there were other matters to attend to. Namely, she needed to inform her mistress that the plan had been compromised.

Then again... did she really need to? Ezekiel wasn't going to come back in any hurry, if she read him right. Remnant wasn't his world, her fight not his own. Surely he would stay out of it? After all, he didn't object to a single bit of what they'd done in his presence, or what he'd heard through the grapevine. He just wanted to go home. That was the deal, and he got what he wanted.

She'd take the risk, but still, she needed to take him into consideration. He was an unknown that could not go unaccounted for. It would be much easier to do that if she could actually see his power in action. With this creature's power to generate portals, perhaps this was not as unlikely a prospect as she thought it to be at first. She would consult her mistress before attempting to radically shift the creature- better to have an experienced hand to avoid damaging whatever mechanism let her perform such feats of travel.

Junior stared at the creature with a look of consternation, his oversized cudgel hanging off his shoulder as he examined every muscle and sinew.

"She's real, Mr. Xiong. I figured your injuries would be a testimony to that."

Junior shook his head, slowly. "No," he said, halfway under his breath. "No, I know that it's real. It's just... unnatural. Something like this shouldn't exist. It's wrong."

"Oh? And tell me, Mr. Xiong, what makes you think that? She's far away from her home, lost, abandoned, with nothing familiar to her but violence and rage. Would you not be afraid if you were plucked from where you stood and put into her world?"

"Hell yeah, I would, because there'd be more of her there."

Cinder smirked as she ran a palm over the face of the sedated creature, who growled in barely-subdued hatred at the intrusion. She could get plenty of use out of Subject Beta. Plenty indeed.

"So, Cinder!" Roman called, entering the chamber with a flourish, his little tricolor whore practically attached to his hip. "How is our new houseguest?"

Cinder cocked her head over her shoulder, giving the outlaw a glare that changed his tune quite quickly.

"Yeah, I figure. So, I've got my people sniffing around, but it's probably not gonna go anywhere- that Ezekiel fellow literally vanished into thin air, knowing a lot more about us than we know about him."

"Yes. I believe that portal led back to his world, so we shouldn't worry ourselves too much over him."

"Well, if he comes back for some reason, thats a mighty big loose end to tie up, Cindy! The last thing we need at this point in the plan is a snitch."

"If he returns, I will have plans in place. Until then, we proceed as normal. Mercury, Emerald, the mute and I will be resuming our reconnaissance of the Academy tomorrow morning. Supposedly, there's a formal dance approaching. That may be the best time to launch Phase 1."

"Definitely. Watts came through with his end of the bargain, so it's all over but the execution."

"We still have to find the school's plans so that we can find the control center."

"Ah, that can be done in a day or two, tops. We're in no hurry."

"Excellent news for you, Torchwick, you need all the time in the world to ensure you don't fuck this up."

Junior barely managed to stifle a snort, while Roman threw his hand over his chest, indignant. "I'll have you know that I have YET to muck up our plans, even ONCE!"

"Don't jinx it," Junior warned him.

"Shut it! I know exactly what I bring to the table here, you-"

Cinder couldn't care less about Roman's fragile ego at this point. She had other, much more important matters to attend to. Her subordinate would be rather upset if Cinder didn't feign concern, as usual.

"I'll deal with you later," she said, once again putting her hand on Subject Beta's face. This time, she didn't even make a sound.

* * *

 _Meanwhile_

 _Far away from Remnant_

 _The Avenger_

Grace was staring at the monitors that watched the troops squaring off with the kids.

Yeah. That wasn't good. Bradford could have told from just the air in her office that she was pissed off at this development.

"I'm getting sick of Adam's shit, John," she stated, biting her lip to stop herself from going into a fit of profanity.

"It's a lot to deal with, ma'am-"

"I KNOW, but we can't do anything about it. There's no Berserkers running around anymore, and even if we had the materials we still wouldn't have the means to extract the genetic material. Adam is just going to have to learn to play with the hand he's been dealt."

"He's undergoing extremely painful nerve and tissue degradation over a long period of time. I don't think he's going to be in the best mood."

"He's already making the Havens uneasy, and the infirmary staff are scared to deal with him because of his little temper tantrums. John, he needs to be straightened out."

"I know, and I'm going to have a LONG conversation with him when the time comes. Right now, he's gonna get a chance to blow off some of that steam. Maybe this will help him."

"By beating a young woman senseless?"

"I have the feeling it won't be that one-sided, Commander."

Grace huffed, and turned to the screen again. Phil was squaring off with Ren, and frankly, Bradford felt sorry for the latter. The big Frenchman was one of the strongest men on the ship, up there with Adam and Quaid. Hell, the only man he'd met that was stronger than Phil naturally was Mahta. He idly wondered where the big Indian could have run off too while watching Phil offer Ren the first hit, and Ren accepted, throwing out a roundhouse kick to Phil's chest, bowling the big man over and apparently knocking the wind out of him.

"Phil doesn't usually have a flair for the dramatic," Grace noted.

"That can't be right..."

 _"Sacredamn!"_ Remi shouted, looking bewildered at Ren. _"The fuck was that?"_

 _"I kicked him,"_ Ren stated _,_ matter-of-factly. Phil had managed to sit up, catching his breath and clutching his chest. _"Are you alright?"_

 _"Just surprised me. Let me up."_

The big Frenchman did just that, standing to his feet with a bit of a catch as he braced himself, putting up his fists and waiting for Ren to try something. Ren threw out the exact same kick, but this time, Phil was ready, ducking in and tanking the kick with his shoulder.

There was a loud pop, audible even through the surveillance system- Ren had dislocated Phil's shoulder. The gunner yelped, clutching the injured appendage and cursing a blue streak. Declan pointed at him and laughed, Roderick visibly winced, and Murphy just stared daggers at the four kids. Adam, meanwhile, looked like he was about to burst into flames.

 _"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?"_

 _"I told you, I kicked him."_

 _"Crucified Christ, Sergeant, I feel like I've been hit by a police cruiser,"_ Phil groaned.

 _"Tha's some SHIT right there, son! Hey, Remi, get you some!"_ Declan shouted.

 _"Oh, FUCK THAT. Kids, explain this bullshit."_ Remi pointed accusatorily at the kids in question.

 _"He just kicked him. I have no idea what happened,"_ Pyrrha replied, looking a bit concerned herself, and approaching Phil, who objected STRONGLY.

 _"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"_

 _"I'm sorry!"_

"Dear God," Bradford muttered, transfixed by the fiasco he was witnessing. "What the hell are we watching, Commander?"

"An absolute Charlie Tango, John. I'm going to rip my hair out."

Remi looked over at Nora, very slowly raising a finger. Nora did the same, grinning something fierce.

 _"I'm gonna break your leeeeeeeeegs~"_

 _"NORA!"_ Ren protested, grabbing her outstretched hand.

 _"Oh, I should have bloody shot you."_

Remi begrudgingly squared up, while Nora just kept grinning, not even assuming a fighting stance. Remi wasn't willing to close the distance, and this staredown went for about a minute before Nora finally broke off, running straight at Remi with her fist cocked back. Bad move. The Belgian sidestepped, clubbing the ginger in the back of the head before grabbing her arm and attempting to drag her to the ground, intent on repeating Phil's misfortune on the other side. This obviously hurt Nora, but not enough to phase her too terribly, as she wouldn't go down to the floor, instead managing to power her way up to a straight standing position, grinning wickedly at the now very, VERY concerned Remi. He threw a vicious forearm that clocked Nora and sent her stumbling free of Remi's grip, which she followed with a punch that Remi barely dodged, pushing the fist to the side before throwing a nasty uppercut that sent her stumbling backwards, which he followed with a flying punch that knocked her to the floor.

 _"Up, up, vie! Try that shit with me!"_

Nora immediately complied, much to Remi's consternation, kipping up to her feet and rushing at him again, going for a waist tackle. Normally, a man Remi's size could just grab Nora mid-charge and hold her in a headlock, but as was becoming abundantly clear to Grace, none of these kids operated normally. The tackle sent both Remi and Nora flying back, a good yard and a half, and ended with Remi clutching his obviously aching ribcage. Nora was up almost instantly, although it was obvious she'd felt that one too, raising her fist before grabbing Remi's right leg.

 _"NORA, DON'T YOU DARE!"_ Jaune demanded.

 _"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU CRAZY LITTLE BITCH!?"_ Remi screamed, kicking wildly at Nora with his free leg.

"She's going to break his leg. John. She's going to break his leg."

"They'll stop her, Commander. I have the odd feeling they've dealt with this before."

* * *

Indeed, it seemed the kids had dealt with this before, Adam noted as Pyrrha immediately leapt into action, grabbing Nora around the waist at around the same time Declan was getting ready to step in.

"Nora, I swear to the gods if you DON'T LET GO OF HIS LEG, RIGHT NOW-"

"Sacre fuck damn shit fuck ass bitch shit FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

Nora's vice grip on Remi's leg was absolute, but Pyrrha's strength was evidently superior still, as she not only managed to pry Remi free, via grabbing Nora's arms and prying them apart, but she proceeded to toss Nora to the side like she weighed about six pounds.

"That'll teach you to bully me and my friends, ya pricks!" Nora shouted.

"Oh, you sleep with one eye open, you psycho slut!" Remi shouted back. "I will make you WISH you'd stayed on the other side of that fucking portal!"

"Remi, for God's sake-" Phil groaned, having finally sat up and managed to move a bit after getting the shit kicked out of him.

Declan turned his head just so, and cocked an eyebrow at Adam, smirking like an idiot. "Oh, Adaaaaaam~"

" _What._ "

"I don't think you're gonna want to take this one, boss man."

"I bet. OI!" The Welshman shouted, stepping forward and pointing at both Remi and Nora. "Both of you SHUT THE FUCK UP for TEN BLOODY SECONDS. We were supposed to be bloody sparring, and we somehow devolved into a goddamned Vale Tudo cage fight or some such bullshit. It's obvious that YOU LOT," he pointed at the kids, "have some sort of physiological anomaly compared to us. I don't know how it affects you, I don't know what it does, and I don't have anything to say to you about it, but as for YOU!"

Adam turned his attention back to Phil and Remi, the later of whom was stretching his leg awkwardly, glaring up at Adam. "You just GOT YOUR ARSES HANDED TO YOU BY A CHILD WHOSE SENSE OF COMBAT DRESS IS A BLOODY HOOKER'S UNIFORM, AND A HYPERACTIVE SPAZ WITH A DEATH WISH! **GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, ASSASSIN!** "

"I really don't see how any of this is THEIR fault, Adam," Pyrrha stated, sending the room into dead silence for about a minute. Nobody said a word, simply staring at the redhead, then at Adam, then at Pyrrha again, then at each other.

"Oh, fuck," Declan guffawed, punching Adam in the shoulder. "You gon' just take that shit?"

Adam slowly, ever so slowly, turned to look at Pyrrha. "Excuse me? **What?** "

Pyrrha didn't even blink.

Remi bit his lip, while Phil just stared ahead, trying to contain the amusement he was feeling at this situation. Declan just laughed, slapping Adam on the back while the old veteran just _stood there_. He was being mocked. These kids, who had stepped into his life, put his entire fireteam at risk, put the entire Avenger at risk, put themselves AND his comrades in danger looking after their asses TWICE, eaten their food, slept in their beds, used their showers, and were living on their ship... were mocking him.

"Pyrrha, you're not helping at all-" Jaune whispered loudly, before getting elbowed in the ribs.

"Declan."

"Yessir?"

"Hurt him."

Declan sighed, running a hand through rusty red locks and letting out a long, drawn out yawn. Jaune audibly gulped, looking terrified... and then confused, because Declan was taking off his top.

"Declan, what in the fuck are you doing?" Adam asked, his voice cracking slightly as his blistering rage threatened to burst forth again.

"Play my music, Central!" Declan shouted at the ceiling, before throwing the top at Jaune, who visibly recoiled at the POSSIBILITY of being touched by it.

"Holy shit. You're fucking stupid," Alexios muttered, burying his face in his hands as he tried to ignore what was about to happen.

"Oh my god. I'm dying," Jerry wheezed. "I'm dying, and this is hell."

"Shakes and weights!" Roderick shouted, grinning ear to ear. "Shakes and weights!"

"Fuck you!"

Declan turned his attention to Jaune, giving him a shrug. "You even know how to fight?"

"I mean, I think it would be obvious."

"No it is then. Come get yo' ass beat, Sergeant's orders."

Jaune awkwardly raised his fists, stepping forward at Pyrrha's insistence.

"You can do this," she assured him.

"Oh, no he can't," Murphy spoke up, smirking.

"Lieut, come on," Roderick chided him, knocking his CO's hat half off. "Asshole."

Declan threw a few phantom punches, before motioning for Jaune to come at him. Jaune did so... slowly, basically shuffling at the older man, who seemed amused by this display.

"BREAK HIM, ALREADY!" Adam shouted, folding his arms and staring at Pyrrha, who stared back, unamused.

"Alright, alright, I was tryna be nice. Fine!"

Declan stepped forward, throwing a punch that Jaune managed to block easily, followed by another, which met the same resistance. Pyrrha smirked at Adam, drawing his ire even further. Unfortunately, her smirk, and the color in her cheeks, left her when Declan suddenly, and swiftly, sent his boot swinging with a long punt to Jaune's...

 _Ouch_.

"Ding!" Declan shouted, admiring his handiwork before raising his foot and stomping on the hunched-over Jaune's head with as much force as he could muster, sending the blonde crashing to the floor with a crackle of white and yellow. That fucking Aura shit again. "Count the pin, ref!"

"Quit playing around."

Declan rolled his eyes and went for another stomp, which Jaune managed to roll away from, scrambling to his feet as Declan followed after him, grabbing an arm and lifting the boy up to give him a series of punches to the midsection, followed by a hook to the face, a snappy uppercut, and a kick to the chest that sent Jaune sprawling back to the floor towards Pyrrha. She was mouthing something concernedly in Jaune's direction, although Adam neither could nor cared to hear it, simply satisfied that Declan, at the very least, had been paired off with the weakest link among the kids.

Declan strolled casually over, giving Pyrrha a casual point as he stepped on Jaune's chest, propping an elbow on his knee. "So, how come he's a pussy?"

Pyrrha looked like she could snap his neck right then, right there, and Declan just smiled some more. "I mean, come on, your friends dropped two guys who literally survived prison in a couple of hits, but he can't do shit. What's up with that?"

Jaune's grip on Declan's foot shifted suddenly, and the larger teen, suddenly had a grip on Declan's ankle, and he pulled, turning his body to try and throw off Declan's balance- although that failed, it gave him room to escape, scrambling to his feet with an annoyed Declan slowly turning to face him.

"Jaune, come on!" Nora screamed, slamming her foot against the floor. "Do something!"

Jaune tried, at least, throwing wide, sloppy punches that Declan effortlessly dodged, before handing Jaune a hefty slap that resonated across the room, sending his Aura flaring again, before crackling like it did when Pyrrha apparently got shot. The kid didn't have some kind of crutch now, if Adam understood correctly.

 _'Just finish him off already, Declan_.'

Declan was not in the mood for that, instead pulling Jaune's face back into place and slapping him with the opposite hand, grinning like an idiot. "Come on, Johnny! Hit me!"

Pyrrha's disdain had suddenly morphed to concern as Declan continued his assault, grabbing Jaune and putting him in a headlock. Usually, someone Jaune's size would be able to manhandle Declan, considering Declan was 180something pounds, 5'9", maybe 5'10" at the tallest. Adam was BARELY taller than him. And here Declan was, hammering away at Jaune's skull from a back headlock.

"Come on, Jaune," Pyrrha could be heard muttering, and even Hitman team was starting to look a little worried.

"Think he's had enough, Declan!" Murphy spoke up, standing to his feet and starting to walk, only stopping when Jaune yelled incoherently, and shoved Declan.

Well, shoved would not describe what happened very accurately. 'Throw' would be a better word. He halfway threw Declan across the room just by pushing him, the ranger rolling to his feet and running back at Jaune will a full-on grin-

Directly into Jaune's fist.

Jaune had thrown a sloppy, but effective haymaker that practically turned Declan's legs to spaghetti, the other man barely keeping his feet, much to Adam's rage, and everyone else's shock, even Jaune's teammates. Declan spat on the floor, a bit of red coming along with it as he grinned.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiit, boy! Where was that the whole time?" he slurred, before shaking his head a few times, attempting to straighten himself out, and failing miserably.

"Oi, what the hell?" Murphy was already getting between them. "Step back, Jaune- Jerry!"

"Holy shit, you rocked his clock, kid!" Roderick had walked over to Jaune, looking at his hand. "And not even a bruise- what the fuck do they feed you kids? Raw eggs, protein shakes, and steroids?"

Jaune shook his head. "Full breakfast."

Roderick burst out laughing, and Jerry chuckled along- hell, even the loopy Declan was giggling like a schoolgirl about it.

"Okay, so, this isn't just a fluke. Guys, somehow, you hit harder than a bunch of grown-ass soldiers, because you knocked out Declan's tooth and gave him a concussion. Do me a favor, Pyrrha? Hold back on Adam."

"No," Adam interrupted. "The ayys aren't going to hold back, so neither should we. No guarantee the boy will get that lucky with a Muton, right?"

"Yeah, Adam, but-"

"But my arse, Jerry. Get him to medical."

Jerry sighed, frowning at him. "Man, you're stubborn. Come on, Declan, let's get you laid down for a minute."

Jerry dragged Declan off, with Rodericks' assistance, while Murphy stepped from between Jaune and the medic, to between Adam and the approaching redhead.

"Murph," Adam started.

"No, _Sergeant Jones_. We stop this when I say we do."

Murphy made a point of pushing Adam back, before turning to Pyrrha. "Goes for you too."

"Oh, I understand. If Sergeant Jones insists on destroying himself trying to destroy me, I'll allow you to take over."

* * *

"John, I'm getting out of this fucking chair, and I'm going to beat his ass."

"Commander, Murphy has it under control-"

"You know that's bullshit. Adam's going to lose it. We've both seen him lose it before, and I do NOT want to have to keep the kids on the ship with a basket case. What happened a year ago is in the past, and yet Adam is STILL taking it out on EVERYONE- these kids are in DANGER around him, Bradford."

"Everyone is in danger around him, around _us_. What do you want to do about it, Grace?"

Grace buckled at that, and while Bradford felt ashamed to bring it up, it felt necessary. Yes, Adam was in no way fit for duty anymore, and it was becoming more and more obvious the longer the conflict went on, but goddammit, he was loyal. He'd been a soldier for them from day one, he fought for the original project, he stuck his neck out and followed Bradford when it looked like there was no hope- Bradford felt a sense of obligation to the sharpshooter. He'd been partially responsible for the events leading up to this, his bad decisions made out on the open road killed people and irreparably damaged others.

Remi and Phil had stood up, getting between Pyrrha and Adam as well.

 _"This is a bad idea,"_ Remi stated, looking specifically at Adam. _"Why don't we just revisit this later, when you're COOL, Sarge."_

 _"You need to leave,"_ Phil grabbed Pyrrha by the shoulder, attempting to pull her towards the exit, only for the redhead to jerk away from him. _"You need to LEAVE_ ," he insisted. __

_"... Sir?"_ She looked to Murphy, who in turn looked to Adam, who in turn looked back at Pyrrha.

 _"You know what? I think that's an alright idea,"_ Murphy agreed. _"Go and hang out in the infirmary or something. I'll come get you lot when this is settled."_

Pyrrha walked away, with Adam's eyes following her the whole way out. As soon as she left the room, Phil stepped into the doorway, turning to look at Adam.

 _"Pardonnez-moi mon Anglais, mais, Sergeant- what the FUCK is your problem?"_

 _"My problem? You see that? They literally beat the hell out of us? They could KILL US if they BREATHED wrong on us, Private!"_

 _"Adam, listen to me- no one on this ship is trying to kill you, bruv. You're safe."_

 _"And I thought I was a fucking psycho,"_ Remi groused, looking down at Adam. _"I'm more scared of you at this point than I am of them- you're always snapping. I'm pretty sure your sanity is about as stable as a strand of floss. At least that Ren kid sleeps most of the day, I don't know when you might come in and frag my ass!"_

 _"Remi, you're not helpin',"_ Murphy warned him.

 _"I don't need bloody criticism from the fucking Vichy, French,"_ Adam replied.

 _"I'm BELGIAN, sheep-shagger!"_

"Oh, God DAMMIT!"

"Grace. Let them talk. I think Adam needs to hear this from someone, because we both know he hasn't been hearing it from us."

"We need a damn shrink on this boat."

"You're telling me. About the only confidence I've had is the bar," Bradford joked.

"At least you're a functioning alcoholic."

"Barely."

Suddenly, Grace's command terminal lit up, revealing an incoming transmission- it was the Spokesman.

"What the hell's he doing contacting us out of the blue like this?"

"Must be important for him to be contacting us right now, it's late in his neck of the woods."

Grace opened the channel, and the silhouette of their old friend came into view.

 _"Commander."_

"Spokesman. What's the occassion?"

 _"It has come to the attention of Resistance operators that you've been mobilizing your crew ant attempting to reclaim North America from ADVENT. I have an associate who wishes to speak with you about an opportunity to forge a permanent alliance, should you choose to accept it."_

"Who's asking?"

 _"There is a community of former ADVENT peacekeepers colonizing the Australian outback in secret, calling themselves 'The Skirmishers'. Their leader, Betos, wishes to have your aid in establishing relations with the Reapers, who are on uneasy terms with the Skirmishers at this time."_

Bradford's eyebrows shot up. Konstantine had mentioned ADVENT making offers to 'talk' with him, but he assumed it was some kind of euphemism for ADVENT kill-capture teams, not actual ADVENT trying to make contact with him.

"What do you think, John?" Grace asked.

"I'll get in touch with Volk immediately."


	7. Chapter 7

Time was running out.

Ozpin didn't know this for a fact, but he could reasonably infer that was the case. There were things starting to change on Remnant. Things that didn't belong here were popping up in conspicuous places.

He knew Ezekiel Collins existed. He did not know exactly what he was doing, who he was with, or what they were planning to do, but he knew he existed. That was one of the many leads Glynda and Qrow would have to follow up on. Something told him that as unlikely as him ever returning was, if the man came back from his little portal leap, he'd be more than willing to cooperate. His comrades would not- Ozpin had seen that much, although he was loath to tell anyone. One face in particular gave him a reason to be concerned, but no matter- it would come to pass in its own time.

That beast in the forest wasn't a Grimm or an animal. It was something else entirely. And it was still alive. In the hands of whomever it was that had been accompanying Ezekiel that day.

He'd have to keep his many eyes, and many ears open. With this many rapidly changing variables before his own eyes, one could only imagine how _her_ plans had shifted.

* * *

Qrow liked to think he was ahead of the curve on most matters, especially those involving the Huntsman's profession, considering, oh, he didn't know, he was working for _fucking_ Ozpin, of all people. Where most people saw a simple eccentric, Qrow had learned that Ozpin was so much more than that, for better or for worse. Just being aligned with Ozpin, being as close to him as he was, meant Qrow knew things that he was almost certain no other man, woman, or child on Remnant knew besides Ozpin's little cabal, and even then, he was one of the man's closer confidants in that private circle. Sure, he still had a HELL of a lot of questions about who, or what exactly, Oz was, but at least he knew he could trust him.

The fact that Oz seemed to know more than he was letting on about the whole 'missing students' thing disconcerted Glynda, but Qrow actually found it comforting. Just because he was being a smug, cryptic little shit about it didn't mean he didn't have an idea of what was going on. He just hoped he'd share it sooner or later.

But, that wasn't really a matter of concern to him at the moment. He'd gone out on his own to search for clues, and so far? He was coming up empty handed. The area they'd been in hadn't even really been touched... save for something rusty orange on the ground. It was dried up on the grass, so it wasn't recent... and the grass it had stained was wilted, dead. Strange.

The air of the clearing JNPR had last been in felt _off_ , that was certain, but he wasn't sure exactly why. The blood alone wasn't it. Blood wasn't that shade of orange. The question was...what was it, if it wasn't blood?

"Uncle QROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!"

Ah, shit. Looks like he had a tail. He figured she'd have taken his wisdom and slept in instead of, you know, waking up at the ass crack of dawn, but then again, these were Ruby's friends she was missing. He'd be more surprised if she slept at all last night, worried as she must have been.

Sure enough, his younger niece came into the clearing in a flurry of red, braking hard with Crescent Rose and sliding to a halt right in front of the patch of dead grass, which Qrow now realized wasn't just a patch- it was a trail, leading somewhere, forming a serpentine pattern of wilted foliage. Definitely worth following.

"Sup, squirt?"

"Didja find anything?" she asked, her eyes and voice making it clear she'd take any news, good or bad, just so long as it meant her friends were out there.

"Just this. Looks like some kind of paint, or some other kind of liquid. It forms a trail, headed east. Where's your team?"

"They're on the way!"

"Right. Look, follow this trail. I'm gonna go ahead and see where it leads myself, and keep an eye out from above. Got it?"

"Okay! You can count on me!"

"Know I can."

With that, Qrow started walking. waiting until he broke the treeline to transform. Arguably the weirdest thing Oz had done for him was turn him into a damn crow, but it had its uses. The sky was a sanctuary in and of itself. No one was gonna be following him up here and hounding his ass unless his deadbeat sister came rolling back into his life again, which was, to say the least, highly unlikely. It was just him, his eyes, his thoughts, and Remnant below. It just felt... right. As if nothing was unusual about it at all. Maybe that was just the years of getting used to it talking.

Nothing stood out so far. The trail was long, and easily visible from the air, because the grass wasn't the only thing dead. A zigzagging, irregular pattern of trees, stripped bare of leaves and covered in what looked like a small layer of permafrost stood stark and bare against the lush greens and yellows of the normally verdant Emerald Forest. Fall came late this year, which made this all the more suspicious.

Qrow flew lower, looking to see if his suspicions were correct. Lo, the trail passed right by those dead trees.

 _'It's cold as shit,'_ he noted, deciding to stick under the treeline and following the blood trail. He was pretty sure it was blood now. Not really much to go on other than the fact that it was headed for one of the hills, but paint didn't kill grass and change the weather in a local area. Either it was blood, or some kind of coolant (which would explain the odd chill), and nothing that needed that much coolant would be trekking through the Emerald Forest, either due to being a bit too big to get away with it, or because whoever was carrying it would have run out a good few minutes ago.

Then again, the same could be said for blood.

Just what the fuck was at the end of this trail?

* * *

"So, is it striking anyone else as weird that literally everything in front of us is dead?" Yang asked.

"Not EVERYTHING," Ruby corrected her. "B-but, yeah, a lot of it is... unseasonably dead. Like, winter dead."

"And it feels... sort of chilly. Wasn't it supposed to be warm today?" Blake looked over at Weiss, who was dabbling with her Scroll, eyebrows arched in confusion.

"It's 80 degrees in Vale City proper." Weiss turned the Scroll to her teammates. "But here, not even 5 miles away, it's 65. It's rising slowly, but still."

"That doesn't make much sense," Blake agreed. "For it to be warm everywhere else but here... and it wasn't cold on our way to this point, either. It only started once we reached the meeting point."

"Well, I guess we won't find out why until we get to the end of it! Come on!"

Ruby took off first, setting the pace for everyone else, unaware that she and her team were being watched.

Subject Gamma had somehow escaped from its attackers in the cave that had once imprisoned it, but the portal it had used to initially escape to its own homeworld, if only to see it devastated and stripped of life and return home, somehow led to this strange planetoid, with humans, a strong psionic presence, and even advanced flying machines on par with those of the Elders' puppet children.

To be fair, that descriptor could also apply to the rest of his kind, as loath as he was to admit it. Puppets of the Elders who promised protection from a greater threat, only for him to be sterilized and his people reduced to a mass-cloned breeding stock. If he had anything to be glad about in his forced captivity under that... abomination... he could be glad that at the very least, he had begun to restore his proud people, if only in that small enclave. Although, if those humans and that beast managed to get through...

No. His people would be fine. He would see to that upon his return. For now, he had to evade capture, lick his wounds, and await the proper time. He would not be hunted here. Or so he thought.

Sure enough, all humans were the same. Desiring the destruction of that they didn't understand. Much like his own people, in the dark times before his ascent. Even when the Elders came, they were still a closely-guarded, paranoid society- if it weren't for their unique... methods of persuasion... they'd have likely been buried on his land. Alas, had they been, this all could have been prevented. Perhaps, in a better life, they were. What he had done to deserve such a future being ripped from his hands was beyond his comprehension. Someday he would know. But until that day, he had to live. And it seemed these humans would not make it easy for him.

He was lucky to escape the shapeshifter's notice, if temporarily, but he could not hide from one in the air, not when his grievous wounds meant that he couldn't control his body temperature. The land around him was unready for such a change. If he was not quick, he would be found within minutes, but if he moved too fast, the sound would surely get their attention.

Enraged by the seeming lack of options before him, the Viper King darted into the clearing as quietly as his large frame would allow, headed for where the children and the bird man had come from. He would escape. It was absolutely essential.

A few minutes were spent slithering through the trees, hoping that the way forward led to the exit of the forest, giving him time to flee, but he knew he was being tailed. A quick look to the sky revealed that the damned crow was following him. He turned his head, spitting icy ichor at the bird, and knocking it from the sky. That would most definitely either kill him, or keep him busy.

" _Now_ ," he hissed, " _to flee this wretched land and return to 'Earth'. My people may still be alive, if none remain in the cave. I will simply find more_."

The possibility of escape was growing much more likely by the second. He could no longer hear the humans' obnoxious chatter, and he could smell nothing around him. Only the birds, the trees, and the smell of...

Civilization.

There were people near. Damn. More than just a few strays to worry over. Truly he was in an unfavorable position.

He attempted to figure out an escape plan on the fly, but alas, he was too late. He heard a dull thump of feet against the grass, and turned to face his oppressor- the bird man wasn't even the least bit chilled by the ice.

"Wrong bird."

So be it.

* * *

This thing was UGLY. Uglier than anything Qrow had ever seen. It definitely wasn't a Grimm, but it wasn't natural either. Not Remnant nature, anyway. It looked...felt warped. Sick. Like someone had took it apart and put it back together all wrong. Like a snake that wanted to be a man.

It hissed loudly at him, cold air gusting against Qrow's face as the beast turned to flee. The old drunk wouldn't' have it, shifting Harbinger to shotgun form and taking a wild shot that knocked the creature flat on its stomach. Not really impressive resistance, that. It attempted to crawl to its feet-er, tail-body-stomach-coil thing, and started slithering away, only for Qrow to fire again, knocking it flat a second time.

"Stop fightin' it," he warned, shifting Harbinger to sword form, and dragging it against the grass behind him, giving the weapon a light twirl and resting it against his shoulder. "Come on."

The beast turned its head to Qrow and attempted to blast him with ice, only for the seasoned Huntsman to dodge it with ease, preparing his sword for a final coup de grace as the snake attempted to coil up in a defensive position.

That's when the unexpected happened.

The creature roared at him a second time, a void of purple appearing behind it. Qrow was a bit shocked, but the creature was even more so, seemingly emboldened by the presence of an escape route. It turned and fled, leaping into the cloud of swirling violet as fast and as far as it could, disappearing in a puff of what was almost like an ethereal smoke. Qrow attempted to stop it from closing, only for it to simply blow away with the wind.

So much for that lead.

With a loud sigh, Qrow grabbed his canteen, and took a swig, holstering his blade once again and swallowing his disappointment. 

* * *

**Hi. This chapter was brought to you by EXTREME WRITER'S BLOCK. Sorry it's so short.**


	8. Chapter 8

_One Day Later_

 _The Avenger_

"So remind me again what the plan is. You've given us two different ones."

Alexios' request remained unanswered for a good five seconds. Indeed, Murphy had told his team one thing, and the kids the other. "Er..."

"Don't tell me you're going senile, old man," Roderick jibed, elbowing his superior in the gut as the two entered their 'launch pad', Jerry and Alexios following. The other two members of Hitman, Joseph Walker and Bridget Conrad, were laid out in their bunks.

"Oi, what's this then? Yer takin' a leave wit'out me?" The Scotsman asked, raising an eyebrow from behind his glasses. Alexios shrugged.

"I dunno, with the chief's leaps back and forth, we might be bringing a circus clown, two two by fours with rifles painted on them, and Bridget's marital aids."

"Wh- hey, fuck off, Tiny!"

"To your mother's."

"I could definitely kill an alien with one of those. Things are about as thick as my forearm," Jerry continued, smirking at Roderick, who picked up the verbal ball.

"Yeah, freakin' impale a Sectoid on one and split him in half. You must be l-"

"Shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUP!"

"Alright, I'd rather not talk about usin' a bloody sybian on an ayy," MacAuley interrupted, "especially now that such a cursed fuckin' image is in my head. Alexios, I don't bloody know what I'm gonna do. It's between you or Jerry."

"So you don't need my help?" Bridget piped up, a bit dejected.

"Nope. Too close quarters for a sniper. Jerry could help out if we get hurt, but Alex is an extra cracker. Could be useful if we run into automated security."

"I can't confirm it's anything I've seen before, but it's highly likely," Alexios agreed. "I could probably figure it out, given time."

"I don't think time is gonna be an issue. All the same, we don't want to be out in the field for too long, in case we're needed elsewhere," Murphy explained, drawing nods from his compatriots.

"I'm cool with whatever you decide, sir," Jerry replied, giving an informal salute. "Either way, I'll patch you up if you get hurt."

"If we're worried about operational readiness, it might not be best to send our two best hackers to the same op with the same risks." Alexios furrowed his brows in thought for a moment. "Besides, it sounds like there's more on the docket in terms of upcoming ops. We gotta try and get some more ADVENT armor for use in the Predator unit rollout, we need to test the Magnetic weapons... yeah, you know what? Might be best if Jerry goes. As long as he keeps in good health, he'll be able to patch people up in the field who aren't so lucky. I'm a lame duck, there. HAV-C isn't made for mercy missions."

"And I _specialize_ in fixin' things. People things. Y'know. People." Dammit, that sounded better in Jerry's head.

"Smooth as a speed bump, Jerry," Roderick jibed. "So, am I going? I'm a big boy, I ate my Wheaties this morning."

"Why wouldn't we?" Murphy motioned to Roderick. "Plus, the kids trust you and Jerry. You're familiar faces, you seem to have a rapport with them."

"We barely know 'em," Roderick replied, raising a confused eyebrow. "I mean, I believe 'em, I kinda accept them, but I wouldn't say we're anything more than acquaintances."

"I like 'em and all, but yeah. Maybe this is good though. We can build that sort of back and forth. Maybe get some intel out of it."

"What kind of intel could four teenagers possibly have?" Bridget groused. "Not like they're some kind of exmilitary, or somethin', geez."

"You would be surprised what kind of intel you can get from the strangest of places. Like Van Pey."

"Van Pey?"

"Yeah, Van Pey. He got us a lead on some sort of Alien Facility, and the Spokesman confirmed it's legit. Out in the Appalachian Mountains, old coal country."

Alex let off an impressed low-whistle, nodding slowly. "Knew he'd be useful eventually. Even with the limp."

"Hey, he earned that limp," Roderick protested. "Van Pey's one of the toughest SOB's I know."

"He got shot twice in the leg after literally knocking on the front door of a militia base. That doesn't scream 'tough'," Jerry retorted.

"Neither does screaming like a little bitch when your girlfriend pulls the pin on a grenade inside a crew-cab truck," Roderick fired back.

"First of all, not my girlfriend, second of all, that was an alien grenade, so there was no pin, and three, we still managed to get it out of the truck. And I did not scream like a little girl, I screamed like a man in dire fear for his life."

There was a poignant pause before Walker spoke up. "So... ye mean, like a wee bitch."

"Shut up, Joe!"

"Nae, ye."

Murphy's PDA went wild in his vest pocket, and the grizzled veteran let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Alright, can everyone just get the memo that I hate this thing? Just come up to me and talk, Christ on the cross... let's see. Oh, wonderful. Menace tried to teach the kids how to use our weaponry."

"How'd that go?"

"Jaune shot himself in the foot with a revolver because he doesn't know what 'single action' is."

"Holy crap, is he okay?" Jerry suddenly was in doctor mode again, ready to bolt out the door. "Where on his foot? Is he missing any toes? Did it ricochet? Has he broken any bones?"

"Jerry. He has that Aura bullshit. Adam's dumbfounded because the wound already closed. It's been about a minute."

"That's bullshit, I call bullshit," Bridget interjected again. "No fuckin' way."

"Proof's in the puddin', miss."

Murphy passed the message along, via actively walking over to the nonplussed Bridget and showing her. From Jerry's view, it looked like she'd immediately been plussed.

"Holy shit. HO-LEE SHIT! That wasn't just bullshit Jerry made up! They're fuckin' superhumans!"

"They hated the prophet, because he spoke the truth," Jerry remarked, a bit more smug than he probably needed to be. "I wanna know what makes that tick. Is it some kind of untapped ability that all humans have? Or are they just some kind of... pseudohuman, with different mechanisms and idiosyncrasies from us? I'm not really a biologist, but maybe Tygan could lend me Idris for a few weeks and try to figure it out for ourselves..."

"So what, you're askin' to do an autopsy? They're not _dead_." Roderick narrowed his eyes at Jerry. "You're not going to kill them just to satisfy your 'scientific curiosity.'"

"Heck no, I like 'em alive. Just, if they get banged up, I might put them under a microscope or something. All I'm saying."

"How about you just refrain from bringing that up to them, eh?"

"That would be... pretty smart."

"Right. Can you go check on Jaune? See if you need to do anything?"

"Don't think I need to, but okay. When're we headed out?"

"Six hours," Murph replied. "Be ready in six."

"Got it. See you then."

Jerry turned on his heel and left the room, already imagining just what the squad was saying about him in his absence. People on this ship had a weird habit of doing that- talking about people as soon as they left the room. He'd seen just about everyone do it. Hell, he'd even gotten into the habit of doing it. Kind of freaky.

* * *

Jerry could hear shouting long before he got to the danger room, mainly Declan and Jaune.

 _"Do it again, boy! I wasn't lookin' the first time!"_

 _"I'm not shooting myself in the foot!"_

 _"Do it! Do it! Do it!"_

 _"Declan, I will cunt punt you."_ While Sophie couldn't be seen, Jerry could imagine her trying.

 _"Y'ain't shit!"_

Jerry sighed loudly, finally getting to the Training Center, where Cody Creel was waiting at the door, smirking visibly now that his bandanna was around his hair instead of his face. "Mornin', Doc."

"Hey, CC. Are they dead?"

"No. But I bet that boy wishes he was, HA!"

"Apparently his foot's completely fine. Come check this out."

"Sha, I'll believe that when pigs fly."

Jerry stepped through the door just as Declan yelped, before letting out a wicked cackle.

 _"Got you,"_ Declan shouted with glee, _"you think you're sli- AHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK FUCK FUCK **FUCK! SON OF A BITCH!**_ _"_

 _"You know what? I'll let that one slide,"_ Adam said, the smile audible in his voice. _"Just because you were bloody askin' for it."_

Jerry and Cody entered the firing range to the sight of Declan laid out on the floor, clutching his crotch and curling up into a ball, while Nora and Sophie stood over him triumphantly. Jaune sat on a chair, watching the display with a look of extreme worry while nursing his bare right foot. Pyrrha and Ren just looked a bit annoyed, both of them holding X-9's. Not the new ones, either- the old, wartime ones.

"Where'd you get those rifles, Adam?" Jerry asked.

"Central had a crate in his office that he'd been meaning to dig through, found a few old guns from before XCOM flopped. Even got my old pistols back." Adam demonstrated by reaching into his holsters and pulling out what appeared to be two Colt-style semi-automatic pistols, before flipping them in his hands and holstering them again. The bolt action rifle resting on the leftmost target booth must have been his as well. "No need for you to look at Jaune, he's perfectly fine... somehow. Bleeds red, just like us."

"I knew that, dude. Pyrrha's been shot too. They heal stupid fast, when it's working."

"Hear that?" Jack sneered at Ren and Nora, raising an LMG that Jerry didn't even realize they had- must have been from that crate. "Now it's just you two. I'm gonna figure out which one of you it is REAAAAAAAAAAAAAL soon."

"Dear God, Jack, I will fucking kneecap you," Lawrence muttered.

"Come on, there's nothing to be afraid of if they aren't alien infiltrators here to kill me!"

"Jack, put the gun _down_."

Adam sighed, motioning over to Jaune. "He'll be fine for the op. Still think you're all idiots for agreeing to that plan."

"Well I think you're an idiot for thinking I'm an idiot, idiot," Jerry replied.

Adam rolled his eyes. " _Hilarious._ Beside the point, they're nowhere near ready to use our equipment. None of them have ever used a grenade, and only Pyrrha and Ren know how to properly handle a rifle. Ren knows his way around pistols and knives, too, and Nora gets the grenade launcher pretty well, but Jaune can't even aim straight, and he didn't know how to properly rack a rifle until I literally ripped it out of his hands and gave him a demonstration."

"And then he shot himself in the foot?" Cody butted in, having walked closer to Jaune and started looking himself. "Sure don't look like nothin' happened."

"Bloody space magic."

"Well, I've seen weirder things," Cody acquiesced, shrugging his shoulders. "Space magic."

"We're giving them their weapons for the op." Jerry noted that Nora perked up the moment that phrase left his mouth. "We figured they wouldn't know anything about how we operate anyway."

"Good luck getting Science off of them, Quoruz is acting like it's Christmas Eve. They can't seem to believe what they're seeing."

"Good or bad?"

"Either, depending on how you look at it. By the way, happy holidays."

"... it's April 9th."

"No, happy holidays. Shen's sending the Magnetic Rifle prototype into the field with you. Wants Roderick to carry it."

"Whoah, sweet. Can't believe it's already ready."

"Neither can I, but evidently the Commander's been poking around the underground, looking for any science types with knowledge of ADVENT weaponry. Found some lads that worked at a manufacturing center, know the weapons inside out. Wasn't hard to retool what they knew for our use."

"Well, hopefully it works."

"If it doesn't, it'll blow up like a C4 charge, so yeah, let's hope."

"Did they test them in the lab?"

"Not this one. The last three blew up in a controlled environment, but they say they 'fixed the gas leak.'"

"So we don't know if it's gonna explode?"

"Schrodinger's IED," Lawrence muttered, smirking. "Anyway, we got an op, too. We gotta play peacemaker for some gopniks and a bunch of... get this... ADVENT defectors."

"Oh, I know you two are thrilled about that," Jerry jibed, winking at Adam and Jack.

"I'll frag 'em myself," Jack stated, glaring off at nothing, while Adam just shrugged.

"If the Russian and the ADVENT kill each other, it's no skin off my back. Central will bust my nuts, then be done with it."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "So who all's going?"

"Sophie and Lawrence are going with ADVENT lad, Jack and I are meeting the Russian."

"Smart. God knows what would happen if you let Jack get within spitting distance of the defector."

"I'd frag him."

"We _know_ ," Cody groaned. "Christ. Kids, he's a fucking idiot, and we apologize in advance."

"We've already established that he's a paranoid nutcase, Cody, I think they get it," Lawrence agreed. "Anyway, I gotta get some work in. I haven't been running around in the field since I was in my 40s. This shit's gonna be hell on my knees."

"Wait... how old are you?" Jaune asked, confused.

"58."

Jerry's eyebrows shot up his forehead, alarmed. "You **WHAT** **!?** "

"Oh boy, here we go again." Adam threw up his hands. "He's _fine_."

"You were in the military for HOW LONG?"

"Til 2016. I was 38 then."

"How many times were you WIA?"

"Six or seven. Give or take... five or six."

"Oh, like _FUCK_. I'm gonna talk to Bradford-"

"No. You're not. And neither is anyone else. I'm good." Lawrence stated, firmly. "Look at me, Jerry."

Jerry did. Lawrence made the effort of taking off his sunglasses, revealing heavily ringed, brownish gray eyes and graying red brows.

"I am _fine_ , son. Trust me."

Jerry sighed. "Yeah, fine. For now."

"It's unusual for your fighting men to be that old?" Pyrrha interrupted, curious.

"Yeah. Most guys hang up their helmet around 40. Why?"

"There are Huntsmen still going at 60-70," Ren explained.

"Aura probably slows down the aging process," Jerry hypothesized. "If you can regenerate that fast, it would make sense that cell death and atrophy over time would be less of a problem, or would at least slow down significantly compared to, say, one of us."

Adam shrugged. "Whatever. Kids, I can't teach you jack shit, so just... I don't know, practice with your gear. Go finagle it off of Science."

"Adam, they're not gonna just hand it over," Sophie warned him, already bracing for a loaded retort. She got none, instead, Adam just sighed.

"Fine. Come on, you lot. I'm getting you your shit, then we're running a danger room simulation."

"Danger Room?" Nora repeated.

"We have a holographic display set up in this room, big enough to simulate about a half a block of space. We use it to train our new blood for live fire situations."

"That's right. I'm gonna have you team up with some of ours to tackle a couple of scenarios," Adam explained. "See if you all just got lucky last go around? Also gotta see if you four can operate without each other."

"Meaning..." Jaune started, only for Adam to cut him off.

"Meaning that you need to be able to work in pairs, or on your own."

"We've done it before."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. At Beacon, we were partnered up individually. Ren's Nora's partner, and I'm with Pyrrha. We kind of had to, well, _not die_ together on our first day."

"Well, now I know who not to partner you up with. Smart lad. Cody, get a hold of the Strongs. Jerry, get Alex up here. We're about to start running sims."

"Oh, _joy_ ," Cody grumbled. "I can tell they'll be happy."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

* * *

"We're _what_?" Private Cedric Strong asked, his eyebrows practically shooting into his skullcap at... well, this.

"Oh, come on, Ric, this is exciting!" Science Officer Cynthia Strong whined, tugging her brother along by the arm. "We get to see aliens! FRIENDLY aliens!"

"Sis, you know that this is a load of bullshit. They're not aliens, they're just people."

"That's not what I've been hearin'!"

"What you've been hearing is tall tales and bullshit, which is what everyone on this ship specializes in. They're confused cosplayers-"

"With space guns. I've messed around with their tech, Ric, it's YEARS ahead of even ADVENT technology!"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"You'll believe it when we finish Project Tarawa. You'll believe me then!"

"Project Tarawa?"

"We've already found a practical application for their technology based on existing research on the Predator, EXO, and Spider Suits!"

"Exo Suit? Spider Suit?"

"You'll see in a week or so!"

Cedric sighed, annoyance permeating every molecule of CO2 leaving his lungs. His sister was always so overeager about anything scientific, even if it was shit she had no business messing with. Why he'd brought her along with him, he couldn't recall, but he wanted to go back and slap his seventeen year old self. Maybe these 'aliens' could use this 'space magic' to facilitate that. Nevertheless, they were needed in the Training Center for... something.

Once they arrived, they found Jerry Hall of Hitman team, Cody Creel of Assassin, and Sophie Thomas, Jack Shaw, Declan Delacroix, and Lawrence Hamilton of Menace.

"Um..." Cedric started, waiting at the threshold for some sort of approval. Corporal Hamilton ended up being the one giving it.

"Come on, kid, shit, don't just stand there."

Cedric stepped in, his sister eagerly following him in.

"So! What's up?" She asked, waving eagerly at Sophie, who waved back with a soft smile.

"Oh, nothin' big. Just training exercises with our new friends. They'll be back with their gear soon, Adam went to grab it for them," Sophie explained. "I'm guessing he wanted you to set up the sim, Cynthia. As for you, though, Cedric... no clue."

"Probably wants you to get some training in."

Cedric shrugged. "Maybe. I don't care. So, the aliens are gonna be here, huh? What do they look like?"

"Like us."

 _"... uh-huh."_

"Seriously," Jack agreed, frowning. "If they hadn't told me they were aliens, even Iwouldn't be able to tell."

"That is truly scary," Cedric deadpanned. "My God. Without the mighty Jack Shaw's alien-detecting sixth sense, we're fucking doomed."

"I'm trying to realign my chakras, see if that might help," Jack continued, grasping his chin thoughtfully. "But-"

"Yeah, um, skip it," Cedric interrupted, turning to Jerry. "Jerry, my man."

"What's up, Cedric?"

"You got any idea?"

"Woulda said something if I did, man."

Cedric rolled his eyes, folding his arms and looking over at the door. "My God, can they HURRY up?"

"What's got you in such a hurry?" Cody asked, "The ship ain't goin' nowheres."

"I just wanna find out what the hell Adam wants from me, and then I want to leave once I'm done with it."

"Fair enough, bud, but I think I may have an idea now," Jerry spoke up, pulling his helmet mic down and calling up the officer in question. "Hey, Adam? What do you need the Strongs for?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know that, that was obvious. What about Cedric? Oh. _Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_. Gotcha. See you in a minute." With that, he flipped the mic up and pointed at Cedric. "You're working with the kids."

"The kids?"

"The aliens, Cedric," Sophie elaborated.

"You have gotta be shitting me."

"Aw, come on Cedric!" Cynthia whined. "It could be fun! I can't wait to meet them, Michelle's already told me about their weapons tech. It's amazing stuff, years ahead of anything we've-"

Cedric raised his hand. "Shut up."

Jerry muttered something under his breath, looking over at Lawrence and Declan, who nodded. The latter two smirked, and Jerry started to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Cody asked, frowning.

"You know, I think they're around your age, Cedric," Jerry stated.

"What do you mean 'around my age'? They're _aliens_ , Jerry," Cedric retorted, feeling a pit in his stomach. What the _fuck_ were they implying? That he would fuck an alien?

"Yeah, I think the girls are both 17. That's in your strike zone, right, Cedric?" Lawrence asked, pushing his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and leering at Cedric. It was now obvious they were clowning on him. How _hilarious._

"Yeah, boy, if they-"

"Declan!" Jerry and Lawrence raised their voices simultaneously, turning towards the Ranger and raising a single hand each.

"I was just gonna say if they're single, Cedric has a decent shot."

Jerry did not lower his hand. "Declan. I'm watching you."

"I had no idea you saw me that way, Jeremiah," he jibed, smirking. "Alas, I'm spoken for."

"You see that? Even Declan's smashin' box, kiddo, you better get on the boat while you still can," Cody jumped in, sneering, before being cut off by none other than the man of the hour himself.

"I sincerely hope you're not talking about what I _think_ you're talking about."

Adam leaned against the door to the Training Center, raising an eyebrow at Cedric, who was now just processing that he was the one being singled out. Before he could open his mouth to reply, Declan took care of it for him.

"He's gon' fuck one of the aliens."

There was a curtain of silence over the room for all of ten seconds, and it was like time stood still. Adam's mouth hung open slightly, while Jack looked like he was about to explode. Lawrence's sunglasses slowly slid down his nose into his hand, while Jerry and Sophie could only look at each other, stunned. Declan simply smiled like he'd not just said that, putting a hand on his hip and looking at the frozen Cedric, who felt like his face was literally on fire.

Lawrence started chuckling.

Declan started laughing.

And Jack let out a roaring laugh that threatened to deafen Cedric where he stood. Jerry just stood there, still dumbfounded, his gaze now locked on the satisfied Declan, while Sophie looked like she was about to pop. Cedric's eyes darted from person to person, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Shit, even ADAM was chuckling. Adam NEVER laughed.

"Oh my GOD, Declan, you're disgusting!" Sophie shouted, shoving the Ranger before throwing a weak punch at him.

"I don't get it!" Cynthia protested. "If they're aliens, fornicating with them would be a really bad idea!"

"No shit!" Cedric agreed, finally finding his voice. "That's fuckin' weird, Declan!"

"Man, and I thought I was fuckin' wild," Cody mused, trying to keep himself from bursting into laughter.

Jerry, too, finally found something to say. "I am so done. Declan, I hope you die. I really hope you do. You took the joke, and you didn't run home with it- you ran across the interstate, and spiked that thing into rush hour traffic.""

"Alright, that's enough talk of that," Adam cut in, taking a deep breath. "Besides, you'll be tired of them within five minutes, Cedric. It's a psychopath with a leg-breaking fetish, a little coward who can barely look at us without tensing up like we're going to throw him from the decks, and a giantess who thinks it's her job to play Superwoman. Plus, the one normal guy."

"Do not shit talk my second pair of eyes, Adam," Lawrence warned him. "He is Allah's gift to me, after all the years of bullshit I've had to put up with."

"Like I said, he's normal. Might keep that one. He's probably of like mind to me. Tired of their crap."

"I dunno, boss, it seems like Ren and Nora are attached at the hip. Never seen 'em apart unless we forced them to be." Jerry clapped his hands together to illustrate the point. "She's pretty much the only person he talks to, too."

"Think they might be siblings?"

"I think they'd have said something about it."

"We barely even know them!" Sophie interjected. "Why are we acting like we need to know all these things, anyway? I get being nice, and all, but we're training them to fight _for us_? I thought we were just giving them a ride home?"

"Lass, apparently _home_ is another fucking planet for them. At least, if I recall correctly."

 _ **"Sergeant Jones, Sergeant Duvalier, Lieutenant MacAuley, Sergeant Connors, Chief Communications Officer Stark, and Commander Cheng, report to the Bridge. Sergeant Jones, Sergeant Duvalier, Lieutenant MacAuley, Sergeant Connors, Chief Communications Officer Stark, and Commander Cheng, report to the Bridge. "**_

The PA died down, having sufficiently cut conversation short. Adam looked over the assembled, obviously a bit perturbed.

"You have any idea what's up?" Jerry asked, slowly, as if he were afraid of the answer.

"I don't know. That's all the officers," Adam replied. "I'll be back. When the kids arrive, Cynthia, set up the targeting range protocol. I have a feeling this might take a bit."

"Can do, sir!"

With that, Adam left, and the room was a lot quieter than it used to be.

"So..." Declan started, looking over at Jerry, then at Cedric.

"Declan, don't you _dare_." Sophie was already cocking her fist, ready to punch Declan right in the mouth.

"Cedric, which of them alien chicks you gonna try and b-"

* * *

 _"WOULD YOU STOP WITH THE BANGING!? NOBODY IS BANGING ANYONE!"_

Jaune shot up ramrod straight at the sound of Sophie very loudly asserting that there would be no rocking of the boat. Ren did the same, while Pyrrha just sighed loudly, and Nora began to giggle.

"I wonder what's got them all worked up?" Pyrrha asked, _attempting mightily_ to pretend she didn't already know.

"Beats me," Jaune lied, smiling awkwardly as he fiddled with the hilt of Crocea Mors. "Maybe we should just leave them alone, not like anyone will notice."

"Jaune, everyone will notice. Especially that Adam. He'll notice."

Jaune was sufficiently cowed by that. Funny how a man shorter than Jaune, with no Aura or Semblance, that he could probably concuss if Declan's situation was any indication scared him _that much_. Hell, even Pyrrha, 'Invincible Girl' she was, seemed to actually give the man a limited measure of respect. Emphasis on _limited_. Jaune had never seen Pyrrha angrier at anyone that wasn't Cardin.

Ah well. They could work on him. Or avoid him. Jaune would love that.

The Training Center grew closer, and the sound of a ruckus grew louder. By the time Jaune had walked through the door, it had devolved into something resembling a gang fight, except it was Sophie and Jerry being held back by the combined efforts of a chubby young woman in a lab coat, a guy about their age in a beanie, jeans and a ratty T-shirt, Jack, Lawrence, and Cody. Declan just stood on the other side of them, looking smug to the point of absurdity as he turned to face Jaune... and then Pyrrha.

"So, Cedric!"

"DECLAN, YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" Sophie screeched.

"I liked him better when his head was in the right place," Jerry groaned.

"Can we get some ORDER in this house, goddammit!?" Cody asked, throwing his hands up, and by extension, releasing Sophie, who tore herself from Lawrence's grip and threw herself at Declan.

"She literally looks for reasons to punch him. She MAKES reasons to punch him," 'Cedric' (he must be the Beanie Guy) muttered, before turning to JNPR. His eyes suddenly went wide, and he attempted to pull his shirt straight, adjust his beanie, and for some reason, look nice. Jaune couldn't imagine why.

"Welp, he picked one!" Declan chortled, pushing away the impotent little lady trying to pummel him with rapid fire fists. Order was otherwise returning to the room, everyone dusting themselves off and pretending that their guests didn't walk in on some sort of strange argument.

"Hi!" Lab Coat spoke up. "I'm Cynthia Strong, from the Science Division. Nice to meet'cha!"

"I-I'm Cedric. Cedric Strong. You must be, uh..."

Cedric awkwardly waffled, before pointing slowly at Pyrrha. "...Nora?"

"That would be me!" Nora spoke up.

"Cool, no one cares. So you're Pyrrha."

"...yes."

"Sa-WING and a miss," Lawrence muttered, before motioning to Cynthia. "Set up the targets, let's just get things going straight away. Feel free to ignore Cedric, as he is a stupid child, and he doesn't matter."

"Alright, grandpa, I've had just about enough of-"

"Pick thy next words wisely, Cedric, for they might be your last," Jerry warned him. "Sup, kiddos."

"Hey, Jerry," Jaune replied, waving to the medic. "What's up with the intercom?"

"No idea. Adam said to just beat up on targets or something. Since you don't have, well, a gun... I guess you can whack targets with a sword?"

Jaune shrugged. He needed the practice anyway. "Yeah, sounds good."

Cynthia fiddled with a computer terminal, the large, empty corridor in front of them suddenly lighting up and flickering, eventually creating what appeared to be a hard light grid, which slowly formed into some sort of city block.

"Never gets old, that," Cynthia mused, smiling as she continued clacking away at the keyboard, all the while looking back at JNPR. "So! Let's see it!"

"See what?"

"The weapons, durr! I heard from Doctor Quoruz how awesome your tech is, and I wanted to see it for myself! I'm guessing by color coding, Nora owns the hammer?"

"Yep! That's my Magnhild!" Nora replied.

"Show me what that hammer do, girl! _Come on, let mama see the **goods**!_"

Jerry visibly cringed. "We can just not use that tone of voice ever again, okay?"

"Aw, I'm just excited!"

Nora smiled, and shifted the grenade launcher in her hand into hammer form, pieces loudly clacking and clanking into place as Cynthia continued typing away, a look of childish glee on her face.

"Ohmygaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahd!"

"Okay, that's actually pretty badass," Cedric conceded.

"Pretty badass? That's 200 PERCENT BADASS, little boy! Hey, alien! Where the fuck did you get that monstrosity?" Jack asked, almost as excited as Cynthia.

As Nora blabbed on about weaponsmiths and such with Jack, with Ren by her side, Jaune looked over at Pyrrha, finding she'd already been looking at him.

"You think you're ready? You haven't used your sword at all in the past few days," she asked. Leave it to her to worry about all that. His nerves had been fried by the whole 'another planet' thing, so he'd been sort of slacking on the training. He could probably safely infer she hadn't forgotten a day of it.

"I think I'll be fine. It's just beating up hard light dummies, right?"

"Seems that way."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you just show off enough, they'll actually start treating us like people instead of walking oddities."

Pyrrha smirked playfully. "I suppose I can afford to be a little flashy, if that's the case."

"Oi! What are you two conspiring about?" Sophie asked, narrowing her eyes at the two partners as she leaned off Declan's outstretched arm.

"They're selling us out, Jack. You better get on it," Cedric joked.

"Nah, I trust P. She seems okay."

Everyone that wasn't JNPR snapped to look at Jack as if he'd suddenly grown wings.

"What brought this on?" Jerry asked.

"Could it be? Have you finally found your marbles, after all this time?" Lawrence smiled, slapping Jack on the back.

"Now, that little stringy motherfucker, I can't trust him for SHIT! He looks like a rat. Jaune, are you a rat?"

"Aaaaaaand there it is!"

* * *

The command bridge was eerily quiet, Murphy noted as he entered, everyone else having beat him to the punch. He'd been in the bar, trying to get some R&R before the operation- shit, he still had his cigar in his mouth, and his beer in his hand. Figured it would just be a check in or something.

That was obviously not the case.

Setting the bottle gently on a console, trying to be nonchalant about it, the Aussie took a long drag of his cuban before walking over to the rest of the squad leaders. Duvalier had dragged Phillipe along, and although Bradford wasn't too thrilled about it, he didn't send him packing. Adam looked a bit nervous, tapping his foot and palming the revolver in his right hip holster. Wolf Mother didn't seem much more at ease, either, leaning up against the Hologlobe with a look somewhere between 'worried sick' and 'pissed beyond measure.' One of the bridge crew- must have been 'Stark', was standing with them, a wiry, lanky gentleman with curly brown hair and a beard flecked with gray. He had one of those old-timey boat pipes, which gave Murph a slight, very much needed moment of levity at how ridiculous it looked.

"What's the occasion, Central?" he asked, as he approached the motley crew that made up the 'officers' of this outfit.

"Christmas Party. Where's your present?" Remi asked, rolling his eyes.

"Like I'd give any of you jack shit."

"What an irredeemable asshole. I hope you suffer a horrible, excruciating, and drawn out demise."

"Same to you mate."

Remi smirked, rolling his eyes as he turned to look at Bradford, who was fiddling with a computer. As usual, he was doing horribly.

"Hang on, I got it," Stark muttered, nudging the Central Officer out of the way as he managed to boot up... whatever it was they were trying to boot up in two keystrokes.

"I hate computers," Bradford muttered, before turning back to his men. "Alright. The Commander will be here shortly, so I'll go ahead and start briefing you on the situation. Sergeant Jones and Lieutenant MacAuley accompanied me on our recent mission, operation Silent Serpent. While we were unable to complete our objective- Doctor Vahlen had already left the site- we were able to find some of Vahlen's logs in the ruined facility. A few of these logs detailed such things as personnel, guard rotations, and information on some new sort of creature that the aliens apparently accidentally pulled through their psionic warps. While we can't quite act on most of this intel, we do have something very, very interesting. One of the facility guards was a man by the name of Colonel Ezekiel Collins, a former member of the original XCOM's Strike One strike team."

Adam looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"But, it gets better," Bradford continued, nodding at someone over the group's shoulder. Commander must have arrived. "Collins was not among the bodies present at the facility, and shortly after the operation, he was spotted just outside of the Humanity Falls enclave. In fact, that's where he is right now."

"Zeke's alive?" Adam asked, quietly, uncharacteristically so. It was as if he couldn't believe it. "Has he contacted us?"

"Getting to that, Jones. Stark, get me Den Mother. Let's see if we can get some contact. You're gonna want to hear what he has to say."

The large screen across the room from the Hologlobe began to flicker with static, drawing the attention of the troops in the room, particularly Adam, who pretty much power-walked over to it like someone'd lit a fire under his ass. Murph saw no harm in following, and soon enough, everyone else did too.

"Stark?" Bradford called out, looking at the static himself.

"Workin' on it. Shit's pretty finicky today. The new comms center is still being calibrated. Alright! Got a signal. Patching through."

The screen slowly cleared, revealing an overcast evening back at home base. Standing in front of the screen was a man with curly, obviously dyed brown hair, eerily pink-violet eyes, and a smirk that screamed 'asshole'. Murphy didn't recognize the guy, but Adam certainly did.

"He's still bloody kickin'," Adam muttered. "I don't know how, but he's still alive."

 _"Yes, I am somehow still alive. Good to see you again, Central, Invic. I do hope I have not been missed too much."_

"You have no idea, Colonel. So, tell us the news."

Ezekiel yawned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his bag around off his back, digging through it as he started to speak. His voice carried a very slight country accent, and he had the inflection and timbre of some sort of shady used car salesman. Murph already wasn't a huge fan. _"So, for those of you who are not already in the know, I'm Colonel Ezekiel Collins, formerly of XCOM, most recently of Doctor Moira Vahlen's security detail. I was helping her run security and interference for her research installation while she was working on all manner of ungodly garbage. Until one day, you see, our security team got her a very, VERY special research project. The aliens had captured some sort of bad motherfucker in Mexico- black as the pit of hell, stunk like a skunk, and had the bedside disposition of a rabid pitbull crossed with an upper-middle class soccer mom. This thing had been modified by the aliens in a similar manner to the Alien Rulers, meaning it could use Psi Warps to pull itself out of harms way and retreat to God-knows-where. Now, you see... I know where, because Doctor Vahlen and I were caught in one such incident- specifically, one where said monstrosity broke itself out of containment."_

"Vahlen's alive, then."

 _"I can't confirm that. I never saw her after we got sucked in. Anyways, I ended up on a planet relatively far from our own, one I'm sure you've heard of from what sounds like a couple of new friends of ours. In fact, I'm familiar with them myself. Ladies, Gentlemen, and Commander Cheng... I just got back from a lovely little two week vacation on planet Remnant."_

"You have _got_ to be kidding," Murphy muttered.

Adam looked like he'd been slapped in the face. Evidently, he couldn't believe it himself. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

 _"Somehow, this thing's presence fucked with the Alien Rulers' Psi Warp calibration. You see, now the fuckers think they're going home, but in reality, they're going to Remnant. And MAN, let me tell you, I think they have it easier here. I ran into some... unsavory figures during my stay that managed to capture one of Vahlen's test subjects for their own nefarious uses, but that's not my problem. What matters is this- your little refugees? We can get them home with just a little bit of balls, and a whole lot of luck."_

"All due respect, Colonel Collins," Wolf Mother interrupted, "but you sound full of shit. How are we supposed to believe you went to another planet?"

 _"Knew you'd say that, which is why I brought souvenirs! Tell me, ma'ams and sirs, does this pretty face look familiar to you?"_

Ezekiel pulled a smashed-up cardboard box out of his pack, sticking his fist in it to try and pop it back out. _"Also, this cereal tastes like fuckin' diabetes."_

"You got a cereal box," Remi stated, his voice going flat. "Your proof is a cereal box."

 _"My PROOF, Frenchie-"_

"Belgian."

 _"My PROOF, Waffle Boy, is the face on this cereal box. As I was saying..."_

Ezekiel brought the box back into frame, revealing it to be 'Pumpkin Pete's'. The box was a mishmash of orange and red pastels, looked like something out of the 80s, and on the front of the box was the face of none other than Pyrrha. Underneath that familiar face was some text- "Two Time Mistral Combat Tournament champion." She'd been telling the truth. They all had. They were really aliens.

Murphy whistled bemusedly. "Guess you got our attention now."

"Well, they weren't lying, then," Adam agreed. "They really are from another planet."

"So we gotta beat up an alien and force them to pull up a portal to another planet. Seems too easy," Wolf Mother spoke up again. "Too many variables."

 _"It's the only chance they've got. But, uh, fellas. I have a proposition I'd like to make."_

"Let's hear it, Colonel," Central replied.

 _"I don't think we should send them home. As a matter of fact..."_

Ezekiel grinned.

 _"I think we may just have won the war."_

Bradford opened his mouth, obviously ready to shut that shit down, but the Commander stopped him, stepping into the front of the group and putting her hand up.

"Colonel, you mind elaborating on what you just said?"

 _"With pleasure, Commander. You see, those 4? Not the only ones of their kind. In fact, not even the best of them. There are hundreds, HUNDREDS of those 'Huntsmen'- and that's not even counting the ones that are kids like them. And there are search parties looking all over for them. You see, I'm thinkin', if we manage to make a means of communication with this here planet, we might be able to not only give these kids a way home... we might get some very, VERY powerful equalizers."_

"I'll admit, you haven't really sold me on this idea, Colonel. Seems like you're banking a lot on them assuming you're not hostile."

 _"I met a bunch of wanted criminals. I think if I turn them in, I suddenly gain a lot of pull as a law-abiding citizen. Besides, nobody'll know the difference between me and them- that Aura shit? It's the same sort of energy as Psionic energy."_

Bradford stepped forward again. "These kids are Psi-capable?"

 _"No, no, you misunderstood. Aura IS Psi Energy. They're harnessing it in a totally different manner than we do. I don't know how, in my amateur opinion, I think it might be a biological difference, but they have a TON of Psionic potential on tap at any given time. They could probably dominate a Sectoid with no trouble, if it came to a battle of the minds. "_

"So you're telling me we have a bunch of child soldiers with ridiculous Psionic abilities, and a whole army of equally, if not more talented soldiers backing them up?" the Commander asked.

 _"Long and short of it."_

"I'm vetoing this plan."

 _"May I ask why?"_

"No way I'm putting these kids, or anyone else who's not involved, in harm's way. The risks outweigh the benefits. I don't want the Elders knocking down their door, too."

 _"Alright, Commander. You do you. I was just offering my two-cents."_

With that, Collins gave a sloppy salute. _"That's all from me. I'll see you when you get back from your little operation. Save me a seat. Collins out."_

The feed cut, and the screen went dark. As everyone processed the information, Remi and Phil were the first to react.

"Commander, permission to speak freely?"

"Permission granted, Sergeant Duvalier."

"Are you a FUCKING IDIOT!?"

The Commander actually _smirked,_ leaning back a little bit. "Little bit _too_ free there."

"Okay, I'm not in a joking mood. From what it sounds like, we just got handed the war on a silver platter, and you TURNED IT DOWN!?"

"I gotta admit, that's how I'm seeing it, too," Wolf Mother agreed. "I'm not trying to come off as insubordinate, Commander, but this is gonna bite us in the ass if we don't take it."

"No. Absolutely not. We said we were getting them home, and that's what we're doing," Bradford cut in. "We're not going to get them or theirs killed just because we wanna take the easy way out."

"'Any tactical advantage you can take,' Central," Remi countered, stepping up to the officer, with Phil ready to step in behind him at any given moment. "ANY FUCKING TACTICAL ADVANTAGE, SIR, AND THIS IS A FUCKING HUGE ONE."

"I'm with Central. I don't want them here, and they don't want to be here. We're still a long ways away from ending the war. We've only just gotten around to analyzing the vial we recovered from the ADVENT Blacksite, we're still trying to get the Skulljack on the table, and ADVENT's getting bolder than ever. We can't afford to be babysitting."

"We can't afford to turn down superweapons, either."

"They're people, Remi," Murphy finally spoke up, only to be very brusquely cut off.

"No. They're not. WE are people."

"You'd best watch your step, mate," Murphy warned the Belgian. "Treadin' on awfully thin ice."

"Oh, what are you going to do about it? You're no friend of theirs, yourself."

"No. I'm not. But they bleed red, just like us. They act like us, walk like us, talk like us, and they've been on their best behavior the entire time they've been here. They don't need to stay here any longer than they have to- they're probably homesick as it is."

"Then let them catch their own fucking ride, because I'm not losing another one of my men just so they can get a free one."

"This isn't about a free ride. They have no idea where they are, or what they're up against. If we throw them out on their own, they're dead, and neither of us get what we want."

"And yet you're the one who has them on his fireteam for the next op. Pot calling the kettle black, eh?"

"Duvalier. Watch it."

"No, Oz, _you_ watch it."

With that, Remi shoved past Murph and stormed towards the exit, Phil worriedly hurrying after him. The Commander followed, muttering curses under her breath.

"All due respect, Central, I'm gonna leave this farce myself."

"Dismissed, Wolf Mother."

With that, she took her own leave, leaving only Stark, Murph, Adam, and Bradford, and the ambient sounds of the Bridge- the hustle and bustle had died down the moment the argument broke out.

Adam spoke up first. "So, what now?"

"Have to admit, they have a point." Central sighed, his voice low and measured. He sounded like he wasn't really enjoying the call he and Cheng were having to make, which made sense. It was the possible lives of his men versus the lives of 4 teenagers. Murph had made that kind of call before, and he still asked himself if it was the right one. He didn't regret it, no, but he still wondered. He knew Central'd been making much harder ones since then. "They could turn the tide of the war in our favor, easily, if Zeke was telling the truth."

"But is it worth putting them at risk?" Adam asked.

"You seem awfully concerned, Adam. Just the other day you wanted to beat the hell out of them."

"I know. I just... I can't stand them, and I want them gone, but, at the same time, I sympathize with them. They're in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people that to them, probably aren't much like normal people."

"Adam," Bradford started, but Adam continued anyway.

"I can't stand any of them being here any longer than they have to be. I've got enough on my plate- on top of what I said earlier, I talked to Tygan. The genetic modifications are starting to degrade, and they could possibly take me down with them. I'm on borrowed time now, and if we can put this to bed before we lose more men, myself included, then everything points at us taking that opportunity."

Bradford nodded. "The lives of the many versus the lives of the few."

"And Remi isn't alone on that feelin' he has. Jack doesn't think of 'em as humans, hell, I think Jerry and Rod might be the only ones who treat them like normal people. We all handle them with gloves, like we're scared of what they could do to us. We've been burned before- hard. We don't wanna take that chance again. At the same time, though, they had the choice to help us when the Avenger went down."

"And they did. Without asking any questions of us."

"Aye. If we asked them to stay, I'd bet they'd at least give it thought."

"I don't want to put that choice on them. They're too young to be throwing their lives on the line." Bradford rolled his wrists, a tic Murphy'd noticed shortly after the two men met in the old Sydney Sewers- whenever he was nervous, he'd just start rolling, and rolling, and rolling until they started to pop and snap with the effort. Then he'd go the other way. He had to admit, his nerves were starting to get to him."

"From what it sounds like, they'll be doing that whether we send them home or not," Adam countered.

"Got a point, there."

"Tell you what, gents. I have an idea."

"A good one?"

"Maybe. We should have our men socialize with them a bit, Murphy. Get them to open up a bit, make the kids feel comfortable around us. Try and make an effort to let our guards down."

"What brought this on? Just the other day you wanted to shoot them," Murphy reminded him, this time more jokingly than the last.

"I want to shoot myself instead," Adam replied, giving a wan smile and slapping the revolver on his hip. "Once my head clears up, I'll be back to my old self. Kids better enjoy it while it lasts."

"I know I will," Murph joked. "We dismissed, Central?"

"You two go on. I like your plan. Execute it."

The two men nodded, and walked away. Something about what Adam said was nagging at Murphy, though, and it wasn't just the talk of gene mods. It was sort of a command secret that Adam was a guinea pig for Vahlen back during the war, but the process was never perfected, and instead dropped in favor of the Firestorm, the Avenger, and other projects of the like. It was unstable stuff, literally splicing alien DNA with Adam's own. The fact that not only was the man alive, but he was actually fighting fit, and fighting like someone twice his size and half his age, was stunning to Murphy. This Vahlen was as good as everyone said she was.

"Oi, Adam." Murphy grabbed his beer by the door, and put out his cigar on the rim of it, before taking the last swig and dropping it into the bottle. "Question for ya."

"Answer for ya."

"Dunno if you'll have one this time. What you said earlier, about sympathizin' with 'em-"

"We've been there, haven't we, Murphy? Us, Lawrence, Remi, Central. We've been there."

Murphy understood it now. He remembered when the war ended. Murphy hadn't gone immediately into resistance. He'd waited a while, tried to just live with the fact that the aliens were in charge now. He remembers walking down the streets of the new and improved Sydney a few months after the war- Toowoomba had been forcibly evacuated, never to be heard from again. He remember the sterile streets, the glistening spires of futuristic alien alloys and metals, and the feeling that no matter how many signs he looked at, he was as far away from Australia as he could physically be. That's why he'd gone to the Outback, rallied with his boys. That was why... well. That was why things went the way they did.

"Yeah... Yeah, I s'pose we do. Oi, Adam. What do you think the drinking age is where they're from?"

"Beats me."

"Well, a little hair of the dog never hurt anyone."

The two vets smirked at each other, both of them coming to the same conclusion at the exact same time. Adam quickly went to his earpiece.

"Lawrence, cancel that last order. Bring the kids, meet us in the bar. Bring Hitman with you."


	9. Chapter 9

The Bar was much more crowded than usual, what with two whole fireteams plus Team JNPR inside. It was obvious the little hole in the wall wasn't designed for a large crowd, but sure enough, Lawrence had scooted around, made room, and fiddled with seating and tables until everyone had sitting room.

Pyrrha wasn't huge on the idea of hanging out here, and to be fair, neither was Jaune. But, again, they were asked to come along. Would be kind of rude, and maybe a little bit suspicious, to just shut that down. Besides, they didn't HAVE to drink. It's just that most everyone was. Declan was the one person that WASN'T holding a glass full of something, instead choosing to pick at his guitar and play a song Jaune didn't recognize. It was nice, bright, but at the same time, sort of wistful. He idly followed Declan's motions over the strings, trying to commit them to memory. Maybe he'd ask Declan to teach it to him. Not right now, though. He seemed into it.

Pyrrha was sat next to him at the small table Lawrence had set up right next to the bar, and Roderick sat across from them. Nora and Ren sat at the bar, the latter insisting that none of them, especially Nora, needed alcohol.

"He has an electric, too, but the ship can't afford to divert any power to something like an amp system," Roderick explained, evidently noting that Jaune was focused on the guitar. "Plus, the noise would kill us in here."

"Remember that time he played Rage?" Jerry asked from behind him, smiling. "Man, that was somethin'."

"Which song was that again?"

Declan answered mid-song without missing a beat. "Township Rebellion."

"Yep, one of the best. What all can you play on electric? Culture these kids, man," Jerry insisted, winking at the two partners. He evidently really enjoyed Declan's guitar work.

"Rage, Pantera, pretty much any heavy shit you can think of. Little bit of country. Some pop rock garbage. That one Katy Perry song."

"Which 'one Katy Perry song?'"

"I ain't playin' that garbage again, I did it for my woman once."

"I'm not asking you to play it, Declan, I'm asking you which one."

"... the one about the lesbians."

Alexios snorted, spitting out some of his beer as he went into a laughing fit. "Oh, SHIT, man, you're OLD AS FUCK."

"It has a nice fuckin' groove for pop crap, okay!?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Play somethin' for me, Jaune-boy," Declan piped up, offering the guitar to him, but he shook his head. One, he was rusty, and two, he didn't really know if Declan would react well to how Jaune played. Some people were very, VERY passionate about technique.

"Suit yourself. You may be the missing piece, boy."

"Missing piece?"

"Yep. You see, I'm gonna start me a little band when this shit is over, but I gotta start tourin' with what I got, opening up shows-"

"Declan, there's no concerts to open," Alexios said through barely-stifled chuckles. "What're you gonna do? Walk from place to place?"

"Nah, man. Jerry can sing pretty well, I've heard him serenading Sophie-"

"Declan, it's not like that."

"-I bet, bitch. As I was saying, he can sing, Adam was in a men's choir, Philly can play a mean bass from what I've heard, and you can teach a brain-dead monkey how to play the drums. Jaune can be my rhythm guitarist! Whaddya say? Could be fun!"

"They're gonna be gone before the war's over, Declan."

"Only if he wants! He can stick around as a favor for me saving his ass."

"But, Corporal Delacroix... I believe we were the ones who rescued you and your team from the Grimm."

Alexios, Jerry, Roderick, Jaune and Declan all looked at Pyrrha, who just smiled nervously.

"She's got a point," Jerry said, sneering at the guitarist, who spit on the floor in Jerry's general direction.

"I had his ass," Declan protested, "I had him dead to fuckin' rights before they killed it. Was gonna mount his damn head over my bunk."

"Unfortunately, that's impossible," Ren interrupted, turning over his shoulder to meet Declan's glare. "Grimm dissolve upon death. There isn't anything left to mount."

"Son of a BITCH! There goes that idea."

"Poor, poor Declan. Can't even kill things right anymore," Sophie fake-lamented from the other side of Ren and Nora. "You must be so disappointed that you can't exercise your psychopathy in a constructively destructive manner-"

"Silence, whore."

Sophie rolled her eyes, while Declan looked over at Ren, leaning over in his chair to the point the thing was balanced on two legs. "Do you have ANYTHING that I can mount on my wall?"

"Remnant has plenty of wild game. The Grimm tend to leave them alone for the most part."

"Shiiiiiiiiiit. Might have to take me with you when you go back, then. Ain't ever had fresh deer meat."

"You've never had real deer meat, period. ADVENT's taken out almost all the wild game on the planet." Lawrence explained, presumably for JNPR's benefit. "Might find a dog or a bear every once and a while, but very rarely do you see any more than that."

"All the livestock is gone," Alexios continued, "but stuff still lives out in the wild. Just a lot less of it, now. Eventually it'll all go extinct. Imagine that- we free humanity from their chains, and we're still stuck with synthetic meat and ADVENT burgers."

"Don't even TRY to make me thing of that," Sophie grumbled, "I swear, I'll kill myself right now."

"I just realized, I don't think Sophie is old enough to remember REAL food," Roderick spoke up, pointing to Jerry. "Aren't you both mid-twenties?"

"I'm just about to turn twenty," Sophie stated, drawing confused looks from everyone who wasn't Joseph Walker- one of the members of Hitman Team, Murphy's group, that JNPR hadn't met yet. Joseph just looked smug and stuck out his hands, making a 'give me' gesture.

"I tol' you lot, I told all of ye. Suck ma bollocks, ya inconsiderate numpties."

"Fuck off, Jo," Declan replied, throwing up a middle finger.

"Only if ye beg."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaalrighty, I think the both of you don't need to touch the liquor," Bridget -the other new face- insisted, stepping between the two and reaching for their glasses. "Come on, nice and easy..."

While the two men continued to volley insults over each other, and Bridget, Jaune couldn't help but wonder why a certain pair weren't in the room, especially considering it was their orders that led to the whole impromptu party thing in the bar.

'Hey, uh, Roderick? Jerry? Do you guys know where Murphy and Adam are?" he asked. The two men looked back at Jaune, turning away from the commotion, before looking at each other.

"Did they come in from that meeting yet?"

"Don't think so, Jerry."

"Huh. Wonder what was so important."

"Pardon me for asking, but why would they ask you to force us into this without showing up themselves? It seems to defeat the purpose." Pyrrha wasn't beating around the bush- Jaune knew she wasn't a fan of alcohol, and she certainly wasn't a fan of Adam. She was probably seeing things that weren't there to be seen.

"Because... I don't know. Why would he suddenly decide to play nice?" Jerry asked, seemingly more to himself than anyone at the table.

"I have no clue. It doesn't really make sense," Roderick agreed. "Something's going on here. Also, why only us? Why not Assassin, too?"

"Why not Marksman while we're at it?" Jerry continued, nodding. "Whatever they got called in about, it's about you kids."

"You think so?" Jaune tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. Sure, JNPR's presence on the ship wasn't exactly the most welcome one, but... surely they weren't THAT high on their list of priorities. Were they? Or was there something these 'XCOM' guys were playing at that they didn't know? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to find out right now. Thankfully, his train of thought was interrupted by the door to the bar opening.

"Speak of the devil, and they shall appear!" Roderick shouted, throwing a hand up. "Lieutenant!"

Murphy stepped in first, tipping his strange little cap, and another man followed him, carrying a case of something on his back.

"Connie!" Roderick shouted, throwing a hand up and grinning ear to ear. "My man!"

"Don't thank me yet, Roderick. I have no idea if this shit is any good," the man replied, turning his attention to JNPR, one after the other, finally settling on Jaune. He had soft, dark green eyes that looked almost like they were flecked with gold in the dim lighting of the room. Unlike most of the men, he was completely clean-shaven, and had a neat, well-groomed head of dark brown, almost black hair.

"So, you're the kids I was told about?" he asked, or at least, that's what it sounded like- whatever kind of accent he had, it was so thick that Jaune could barely understand it. Some kind of regional dialect, maybe? "Apologies if some of my comrades have been a bit brusque with you, I assure you, you are among friends here! I am Konskatin Afanasyev. A pleasure to meet the four of you, at last!"

"Uh, hi!" Jaune replied, smiling nervously as the man slammed the case onto the bar, and threw out his arms.

"Tell me, young man! Your name, Jaune, yes? Have you ever been drunk?"

"No, sir. We're not old enough to drink... where we're from, anyway."

"Actually," Ren stated, "the drinking age in Mistral is 16. As such, all of us are technically legal but you."

"We're not in Mistral."

"Fair. Mr. Afanasyev, do you know the drinking age for this...'country'?"

"Mr. Oddly Colored Pink Eyes, do you know if you can hold a bottle?"

"...yes, I can."

"Then congratulations! You're legal here! Quickly, take! I have no idea if it's any good, but we shall soon find out together, comrades! To your health!"

With that, the man smacked the case on a large black trigger on the handle, and it opened to reveal a small fog of cold air, and about 20 bottles of a nondescript liquor. It was clear like water, but only an idiot would believe that's what was in the case.

Surprisingly to Jaune, from what he'd assumed about the group, hardly anybody got anything to drink. Only Murphy, Konstatin, Alexios, Lawrence, and Roderick grabbed anything, and even then, Lawrence and Alex didn't get much at all. Konstatin seemed shocked, too, maybe even a little indignant.

"Ah, come on! Surely you're thirsty!"

"I'm a teetotaler, same with Jerry," Declan replied. "Well, at least, I'm tryin'. "

"Since Jerry doesn't like it that much, I usually don't drink in front of 'im," Sophie explained. "W-well, same with Declan. And Adam."

" No offense, mate, but when I get hammered, I get a wee bit too handsy," Joseph explained.

"I'd rather not, thanks. God knows what's in the swill we get from these 'home breweries,'" Bridget turned up her nose at the stuff, as if just looking at the case put a sour taste in her mouth.

"Hey, besides, if we get too sloshed, we can't tell 'em all about our lovely little shithole of a planet," Alexios spoke up, smirking at Lawrence.

"Hey, it's OUR shithole planet!" Declan protested.

"That doesn't make it any less sh-sucky to live here," Jerry retorted, before turning to Jaune. "I'm gonna be real with you, man- you picked the wrong portal to walk through."

"I mean, you told us things were pretty bad here, what, with the alien invasion and all-"

"OH, he thinks THAT'S the beginning of our problems?" Roderick shouted, slamming his cup against the table as he went to sit back down. "Oh, oh, you SWEET SUMMER CHILD."

"Man," Jack agreed, "there were ayy infiltrators in our society since the Egyptians! This world's been fucked!"

"Well, while I don't agree with Sagole's way of putting it... yeah. We've been in bad straights since as long ago as I can remember, and past that. Tell you what, kids. How about we tell you about our world, and you tell us about yours. Just as an icebreaker. Sound good?"

Jaune looked at the rest of his team, who all seemed to be... accepting of the idea, at worst. To be fair, this would probably help with the trust thing.

"Yeah, sure. I don't see any harm."

"Rad." Alexios leaned over the bar, raising an eyebrow. "So, you said your place is called 'Remnant,' right? Odd name for a planet."

"I mean, it seems normal to me. Earth sounds kinda weird, just naming your planet after... you know, dirt."

"I mean, really, all Earth is is a giant, wet dirtball full of savage animals whipping around the sun like a stripper on a pole." Declan rolled his eyes, kicking up his feet on his table. "Remnant's got a sun and shit, right?"

"Remnant's a lot like 'Earth', from what I've seen of it so far," Ren spoke up, "in fact, I originally believed we might just be on some unexplored island or something. A lot of our world is still being settled."

"So you guys are like... 1800s Earth, but with 22nd century tech, or something," Jerry mused. "Ain't that somethin'. You said something about a 'Mistral' earlier. That's the name of a city?"

"A Kingdom," Pyrrha explained. "Remnant's population settled into four Kingdoms long ago to protect ourselves against the Grimm. There was Vale, Mantle, Mistral, and Vacuo."

"So which are you guys from?"

"Myself, Ren, and Nora are from Mistral, and Jaune is from Vale."

"Nice. So, these Kingdoms work together, or are they like... separate entities entirely?"

"Well, after the Great War, everyone decided to start trying to work together again," Jaune continued in Pyrrha's stead. "But before that, only Mistral and Mantle really had close ties, if I remember history lessons correctly."

"The Great War?" Declan asked.

"People killin' people, no matter what planet it's on," Lawrence muttered.

"We got a great war too, but ours is pretty far back in the past. Anyway, keep going, you got my interest." Jerry watched Jaune with rapt attention, while the rest of the room were in various states between 'listening, but not giving a shit' and 'sort of interested'. Jaune swallowed silently, hoping that he remembered all this stuff from Glynda's classes correctly, or that Pyrrha, who seemed to know freaking everything, would correct him if he screwed up.

"Yeah, okay. So, a while back, Mantle decided that they had an idea on how to fight the Grimm. They'd had a lot of discontent and negativity in their kingdom, and that kind of stuff attracts Grimm, so they figured that, if they didn't give people reasons to be uncomfortable, they'd stop the Grimm. They heavily restricted and censored art, music, and creative thought, and Mistral kind of went along with it. Vale was against this because, well, Mantle and Mistral both allowed slave labor and treated the poor people in their kingdoms like garbage, so they basically told them to stop it. Mantle didn't, and instead demanded that some islands be handed over to them. The King of Vale just kind of let it happen, but the people living on the island got mad, and tried to fight. That's how the Great War started."

"Pray, where did these 'Vacuo' folk factor in?" Konstatin asked. "You didn't mention them."

"Vacuo was neutral, but when the war started, they realized that if Mistral and Mantle conquered Vale, there wouldn't be anyone left to stop them from conquering Vacuo. The war went on for ten years, until people decided it just wasn't worth fighting anymore."

"You said something about Grimm being attracted to negativity?" Murphy raised an eyebrow, speaking slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure he believed that. "... then why the hell did they go to bloody war? Make everyone miserable? Wouldn't that get them more riled up?"

"Exactly. All the people strong enough to defend their homes and villages and cities from the Grimm were off at war, so a lot of places were lost to the Grimm. A lot of people never got to go back home, and sometimes there would be ceasefires while everyone worked together to fight off the Grimm. I think that's why the war ended... because people were so tired of fighting the Grimm that they figured fighting each other was just a waste of energy better used elsewhere. So many people died fighting each other, there almost wasn't enough left to protect them from the Grimm"

"Pretty much the shot in the arm we got, huh, Murph?" Roderick asked, and Murphy nodded.

"It's amazin' what impending annihilation can do for one's point of view. So, what then?"

"The King of Vale got them to meet on a neutral island- Vytal- and make a peace treaty. They abolished slavery, reinstated democratic rule through councils, and established the Huntsman Academies in each Kingdom- Atlas in Mantle, Haven in Mistral, Shade in Vacuo, and Beacon in Vale."

"Sounds like y'all got it worked out okay," Declan surmised, smirking. "Must be nice."

"Yeah. After the war had happened, people were naming their kids after colors, arts, and figures from legends and histories, as a way of keeping expression and identity alive after a whole war was started over trying to repress it."

"That sounds pretty cool. Just spittin' in the face of it like that," Sophie mused. "Just sayin' 'fuck the war, let's be happy for a change'."

"Yeah. We've still gotta deal with the Grimm, but... well, everyone gets along pretty good nowadays."

"Pardon my interruption, but..." Pyrrha started. Jaune couldn't help but notice she'd been watching him with a little bit of a smile on her face. He must have gotten it right. Looking at her, though, she kinda just awkwardly looked off at Alexios, as if she didn't want Jaune to notice. "You said something about a Great War here?"

"That was Jerry."

"Yeah, there was," Jerry explained. "It's a really, really long and complicated story, but basically, a bunch of countries were angry at each other about a bunch of different things. Some wanted independence, others wanted land, some wanted oil, some wanted to fight for the heck of fighting... and then, one guy got mad enough, and shot the ruler of another country. It all just... blew up. Lasted for about 4 years. Killed millions of people. We got together after the war, punished the person who we 'claimed' was responsible, and swore it would never happen again... and then, well... it happened again. Not even 30 years later, it happened again. And it was still happening up until the end. Every year, it seemed like, someone had a bone to pick with someone else. Someone wanted somebody else dead. Whole races of people were put in camps and exterminated just for being the wrong type of person. We made weapons capable of wiping cities off the map, and then nearly blew ourselves to shit with them. The only reason we hadn't had a Third Great War is because if we did, humanity would have nuked itself back into the Cambrian."

"What Jerry's gettin' at is that if we sat here and told you about how much life sucked before the aliens showed up, you'd be here all day." Alexios sighed, shaking his head. "And people didn't learn from it even at the last fucking second."

"For all the faults," Lawrence stated, quietly, "at least the aliens gave us a common cause. Something to work together for, even if it was only for a year."

Declan jumped out of his chair. throwing up his hands, and shouting at the top of his lungs.

"AAAAAAAAAAALRIGHTY, this shit's depressing. Maybe one day, when we done fucked the Elders in the ass and broke all their shiny toys, we can tell these kids how much life used to suck while we sip martinis on the beach. How about we tell 'em about US. Not Earth, us."

"Us? Like, our life stories?" Sophie asked, incredulous.

"I mean, shit, let's depress them even more if we do that. No, I mean the good stuff. Like, what we used to do for a livin', our families, our hobbies, shit like that."

"I'd certainly like to hear more about you all," Pyrrha agreed readily, nodding a little bit too quickly. It was obvious she didn't mind the change of subject.

"Sounds cool! Were any of you like, doctors, or lawyers, or super secret mercenaries working for the government?" Nora was off like a verbal machine-gun already, which drew a chuckle from Lawrence.

"I mean, I wasn't a mercenary," Lawrence answered, "but I was Special Forces. Back in my halcyon days, I was what we call a Delta Force Operator. Was trained to fight and win no matter what the odds. Served from the late 90s to the end of the Alien Invasion."

"I was in college to get my medical degree," Jerry followed. "Got about halfway through my internship before I quit."

"I was just a traveler," said Sophie.

"I played on the gridiron for 5 years, then got into acting," said Roderick. "I'll have to show you kids one of my movies."

"I was in the military. Special Operations Engineering Regiment. I was basically the support staff to Australia's Special Forces," said Murphy.

"Talk show radio host, man!" said Jack. "One of the most popular on the islands! Hawaiian Islands, specifically. Mostly Oahu... pretty much just Oahu."

"I designed computer programs," said Alexios, "even spoke at a few tech conferences."

"I worked for 'im!" Joseph smiled up at Alexios, who nodded back at him.

"I was a... personal assistant," Bridget slowly spoke up, before pointing threateningly at Declan, who was about to say something.

"... I played guitar in a band," he stated, coolly, all the while smirking at Bridget.

"And I was a representative of our xenos oppressors for about 10 shitty years of my life!" Konstatin butted in, loud as thunder. "I was a presenter on the evening news back in Yekatarinburg."

"We're an eclectic mix, sure," Alexios continued. "If you'd have met us in our old lives, you probably never could have seen us together. Most of us, anyway."

Jerry and Alexios looked at each other. The latter grinned, while the former looked as if he might burst into flames.

"Alex."

"Jeremiah."

"It's 'Jeremy'."

Alexios started laughing, as did Lawrence and Roderick, the latter slapping Jaune on the back with the force to rival an Ursa. Jaune let out a hacking cough that shook enough to sound like he might be trying to laugh, but he sure wasn't feeling funny. Pyrrha and Nora both looked confused, but Ren was actually... chuckling along?

"See! My boy gets it!" Lawrence shouted, now grinning ear to ear, which was probably the most Jaune had ever seen the man emote in the two or three days since they'd met, "He already knows! It's not even his planet, he's never met you in his life, and he already knows!"

"Okay, shut up!" Jerry protested. "I don't get what's so funny about this to you!"

"EVERYTHIN' ABOUT IT, J!" Declan guffawed.

"Give me my fuckin' money, Murph!" Jack hollered, slapping his hand against the bar and reaching out to Murphy. "I told you, bro, I TOLD you this would happen!"

Murphy sighed, pulling out some sort of plastic card. "Always does."

What the heck were they even talking about?

* * *

Meanwhile, in science, Tygan examined the schematics placed in front of him. It was another one of Quoruz' outlandish ideas, but this time... this time, it had some merit behind it. Especially that they now had something to work with as far as a prototype. Technically, at least.

"So, Dr. Quoruz... would you care to explain what exactly this is?"

"Well, sir, I believe we finally have a way to take Project Sparta off the drawing board. You see, that kid with the sword and board didn't show off a little bonus feature his shield had. Idris found it while he was fooling around and trying to get a sample of the metal for testing. You see, the shield has a hollow channel in the center of it to act as a sheath for the sword, but that's not what's interesting- the shield is also segmented- it can compress itself down to the size of a long sheath, for ease of carry."

"So you believe we can co-opt this design to give our soldiers a personal shield?" Tygan asked.

"Well, there's one problem... the thing's too big. I don't think we can make the design smaller right now, either."

"So you're saying it's impractical."

"I'm saying that we would have to give them to some of our stronger field operatives. Say, the Grenadiers, or some of the Rangers."

"I still don't believe this is worth our resources, Dr. Quoruz. We still have to-"

"Dr. Tygan, please. I know it seems farfetched, but just... think for a minute. This could work, if you gave me a chance, and time. Since we already have a shield to work with, it would only take a couple of days. Then, as time goes on, I can work on downsizing it, or at least specializing it to where it can fit some sort of tactical niche."

"... very well, Dr. Quoruz. I'll allow you to complete your research on Project Sparta. However, know that your project is on the lowest level of priority- should other projects arise, you'll have to set it aside."

"I understand, Dr. Tygan. Thank you, sir."

Tygan nodded, before heading back to his work elsewhere. He still needed to see if there was something he could do about the power supply, on top of keeping a distant but watchful eye over Michelle. She was more enthusiastic about this 'Remnant' technology than he'd ever seen her excited about anything else, and although Tygan agreed that the possible applications were astounding, it was still a lot of risk involved. The shield was probably the easiest thing to translate into Earth tech, and it still wouldn't be a cakewalk- Tygan had yet to see any sort of deployable shield in his lifetime, other than the energy shields used by the ADVENT Shieldbearers. A physical shield would certainly be more durable, but were it to be too heavy, there would be no point in carrying the thing into the field. They were stealth operators and guerrilla fighters, not riot police.

Actually... come to think of it, there was a few things he could do. He'd speak to Michelle about it later. For now, he had other business to attend to.

* * *

"Sacre tabernak, Phillipe, again?" Remi asked, watching over his second with a look of... well, pity. Of course Remi pitied him. Look at him, 23 years old and nearly pissing himself every night because of one little bad dream, one that would likely never come to pass. Was he just a fucking joke now?

The rest of Assassin team was not normally present for such outbursts, but this time, both Cody and Emma were present. Luckily for him, they'd understood since back at the prison- hell, Emma was his cellmate. For someone who rarely spoke, she seemed better able to comfort Phil through these trying times than even Remi. Too bad she vacillated between French and Flemish so often, otherwise he might actually understand what the fuck he was saying.

"Shit, man, you really been havin' it the last couple nights," Cody murmured. "Wonder what devil's gotten into you?"

"... I don't know. It's more vivid, now."

"Still the same stuff, though?"

"Oui. Same cathedral... but, not a cathedral. Interior looks like a school. It's not on fire, but I smell smoke. There's a couple of familiar faces, but not many."

"Who'd you see?"

"I can make out Alexios, Jeremy, and Joseph from Hitman, and Adam and Lawrence from Menace. And you, Remi."

"Hm. Odd. I don't think you even speak to Lawrence."

"Peux-tu tout me dire, Phil? Ou as-tu oublié?" Emma spoke up, quiet as a church mouse.

For once, something he could understand. "No, I haven't forgotten it yet, it's all still just... foggy. I don't even know why I'm there. In most dreams, you feel like there's a reason for you to be there, but, again, I don't know what or where I am. Just that... deep down, I feel like I have to be there."

"Shit. Well, I mean... at least you've made progress. Maybe once things start clearin' up you'll get the rest of it, and finally put it to bed."

"Dis-moi tout quand tu seras prêt, d'accord?"

"Oh, so now you tell me you speak perfect French," Remi groused, bopping Emma on the back of the head. "What's next, are you going to start speaking German?"

"Vielleicht. Weißt du es nie!"

Cody's eyebrows shot up into his hair. "Alright, excuse me, but what the fuck?"

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU WERE LYING THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME!" Remi shouted, throwing his hands up. "OH, GOD, GRANT ME PATIENCE!"

Phil chuckled from his seat on the side of the bed. "I never said she ONLY spoke Flemish and a bit of French. She knows German pretty well, and can speak some Russian, Japanese, and Spanish. She just doesn't know much English."

"Never know, she could be lyin' to you too, Phil," Cody stated, his smirk audible in his voice, albeit hidden behind his bandanna.

"Never!" Emma stated emphatically, although her accent made it sound like she was referring to something else entirely. She wasn't wrong, though-she'd never lied to Phil, even about the most inconsequential shit.

"Whatever. Regarding the current situation... Phil, I can't help but wonder something," Remi started, stroking his thin beard and looking out the door. "When did this start becoming more evident? The dream, I mean."

"A few days ago, why?"

"... just a hunch."

With that, Remi stepped out of the room, and started walking towards the bar.

"Oh, here he goes..." Cody grumbled. "Wonder who he wants to pick a fight with?"

"Probably Adam again. They went at each other earlier... hard," Phil replied. Remi had woken him up to go to that little meeting for... some odd reason, and as soon as it was over, he'd tried to go back to sleep. Got slapped with the nightmare immediately afterwards. Remi was in a foul mood since then, and he was surprised he'd managed to act over it.

Emma made a low groan, and looked at Cody.

"I ain't goin'," Cody replied, shaking his head. "I know I gotta put up Wade on the board, but I just ain't ready. He was a damn fool sometimes, but he was my damn fool."

"Well, waiting isn't going to make it any easier to acknowledge, Cody." Phil stood up, stretching as best his massive, ill-formed frame could allow. Curse acromegaly. Curse it to the deepest pit of hell. "We can go together."

Cody closed his eyes, and sighed. "Alright, fine. All of us can stop Remi from causin' a scene, anyhow. Man, he holds a grudge."

* * *

"-alright, so we're in the truck now, and what feels like every sonnovabitch ADVENT has is tailing us, I dunno if anyone else left or what, but they were just on our ASSES! We're drivin' this nasty, beat up SUV, half the windows are broken, there's a damn shit stain on the back seat, and Sophie's half-bleedin' to death-"

"That's not how I remember it!" Sophie protested.

"No, you were literally five minutes away from dying," Jerry stopped her. "Declan, keep going. And don't lie."

"I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothin' but! So anyway, we're drivin' as fast as this piece of shit will go, and we've got these guys chasin' on foot. We think we're alright, but all of the sudden, this ADVENT dropship just shows up out of nowhere, and the assholes inside just YEET three grenades out. First one bounces off the hood of the SUV, so I'm about to have a heart attack, and Jack's got the wheel in a death grip and is screamin' shit like 'I'm still a virgin, I don't wanna die!'"

"Hey, that's bullshit!" Jack stood up, and held up a finger.

"So the second grenade bounces off the top of the car, and Wesley's just losin' his shit, he's screamin' about how we're gonna die, Roderick's tellin' him to shut the fuck up, I'm just tryin' to keep my aim steady and shoot these assholes, and then, all the sudden, I hear something bounce off the dash, and someone just screams. It ain't Wesley, I know for a fact it ain't Roddy, it's not me, and I turn around, and Jerry is fuckin' FALLIN' OVER HIMSELF tryin' to get the grenade out of the back. Sophie don't know what's goin' on, so she's tryin' to ask why everyone's screamin' and why she can see her hip bone and shit, Jerry's still screamin', now Wesley's screamin', Roddy starts screamin', I start screamin', Jack just lets out the biggest fuckin' scream I've ever heard in my life, and all the sudden, Jerry, the fuckin' idiot, PITCHES THE GRENADE INTO THE BACK SEAT."

"I was literally watching my life flash before my eyes," Roderick blurted out between bursts of laughter. "I legit thought I was gonna die because this fuckin' hippy didn't know what to do with a live fuckin' grenade!"

"And I just hear Roderick scream, at the top of his lungs, so loud I'm pretty sure ADVENT heard it, 'I FUCKING HATE YOU!', throws his door open, and just tosses the grenade out maybe ONE SECOND before it blows up, and it blew the FUCKIN' DOOR OFF THE SUV!"

"So I'm just sittin' there, I'm in some gym shorts and a white t-shirt, holding this big fuck-off rifle, there's no seatbelt, I'm clutching the oh crap strap for dear life, and Jack, ever the wise man, just asks 'Why is there a breeze in here, this thing doesn't have AC!'" Roderick continues.

"I don't know HOW we survived that," Jerry muses, "We drove from Kansas all the way to Michigan in that shitty SUV."

"With the door blown out?" Jaune asked, incredulous.

"And no AC. The door blown out. Only the front and back windshields and the two windows on the trunk space. Oh, and a radio. I think we had three CDs in there."

"Man, if I never hear Reba McIntyre's voice again, it'll be too soon," Jack chuckled. "Good times, gooooood times."

"If me nearly bleeding out is your idea of a good time, I really don't want to associate with you anymore." Sophie went to scoot away from Jack, who just started laughing harder.

"That's... certainly an interesting story!" Pyrrha smiled, and it was the kind of smile that Declan knew very well as the 'I want to get the fuck out of here' smile. Everyone was a critic these days, Jee-zus. She was a hoighty-toighty little asshole, she was. Too bad she was apparently REALLY good at kicking ass, from what he'd gleaned.

"Oh shit! Angry midget incoming!" Jack shouted.

"Angry midget?" Jaune asked, confused.

"We call Remi that, because he looks tiny compared to Phil."

The kids looked confused, even more so when literally three quarters of Assassin Team strolled into the room. Konstatin looked elated, at least.

"Sergeant! A drink?"

"Fuck off, Konnie."

"... Christ. Who shat in your breakfast?"

With that, the new arrivals sat down, all of them staring down JNPR rather intensely save for Phil, who just looked annoyed.

Jerry raised an eyebrow.

Murphy coughed.

"So..." Lawrence started. "What's the occassion?"

Remi silently drew his pistol from his holster, and cocked it.


	10. Chapter 10

"Woah!" Roderick pretty much jumped out of his chair at the suddenness of Remi's very, VERY stern nonverbal statement of intent, and no one else was reacting any better. Lawrence had reached for his own service pistol, and was taking aim at the one in Remi's hand. Phil knew he could hit it. Jack whistled noncommittally, Sophie attempted to put herself in his line of fire, only to realize that his targets were a little bit in front of her, making that an exercise in frustration, and Murphy just stared down his bottle of vodka, looking absolutely nattered to hell.

"Duvalier, I hope to God that you're ready to use that thing, because if you point it at us again, you're going to need it," the Aussie stated.

"Oh, I intend to. If Jerry would just scoot a little bit to the right, I could probably get two."

"Glad to see the Adam bug has been passed on," Jerry grumbled. "Alright, jerk, you gonna shoot them, you gotta shoot me."

"No big loss."

"Sarge, I highly suggest you cool your shit before your shit gets ICED, if you catch my drift," Cody interrupted, attempting, as always, to play peacemaker. From what Phil could see, the kids were taking this in various ways- Ren instantly knew the intent behind Remi's sidearm being drawn, and Pyrrha was catching on very quickly. Jaune seemed to get it too. Nora... Nora didn't get it.

"Friends, please, there is no reason to argue!" Konstatin tried to speak up, only to get cut off by Remi.

"Private, do me a favor and shove it up your ass. I want to ask you a question, and any of you little ones are free to answer. If I don't like your answer, you won't like my response."

"This is not gonna turn into an interrogation, Remi. This is not the time, or the place," Murphy stated, standing up. Phil knew better than to do the same, even if Remi was giving him the side eyes in an attempt to get him to. "Get out."

"Or what?"

"You got the balls to shoot me, too? Because I guarantee, you'll wish we left you for dead in Hurtgen if I have to get involved. Get. Out."

Remi simply pointed his pistol at at Murphy. "What. Are you going. To do about it?"

 **"Assassin Lead, report to the Skyranger immediately. Assassin Lead, report to the Skyranger immediately.** **"**

Lawrence smirked just out of the corner of Phil's vision, and Murphy jerked his head towards the door. "What am **I** gonna do about it?"

Remi spat at the older man, before grabbing his pistol, and holstering it. "We'll come back to this later. Alone."

"I bet. Go on. Fuck off, before I make you fuck off."

Remi, sufficiently cowed, turned tail and left the bar, leaving a very nervous Cody and nonplussed Phil.

"So..." Cody started, awkwardly fiddling with his bandana. "I, uh... I have no words."

"Let's just pretend this never happened, da?" Konstatin spoke up, raising a glass.

"Sounds good to me," Lawrence agreed. "Dunno what's gotten into people on this ship."

"I get that we're paranoid, but fuck's sake..." Roderick muttered.

"Yeah. Glad this'll be over soon," Jerry agreed. "Pretty sure you'd prefer not being on the knife's edge all the time, kiddos?"

"It's nothing new," Ren replied. Phil raised an eyebrow. He hadn't really heard much of where they'd come from, just that it was another planet full of monsters.

"I bet," Roderick replied, eyeing Phil up and down like he expected him to do something. It was no secret to Phil that people saw him as just an extension of Remi. Maybe they weren't stupid to think that was all he was, after all, he owed the man his life, but Phil was more than capable of making his own decisions about these children.

"This place was just as tense before they came. Now we just have a reason to bite each other's backs," Phil stated, looking over at the kids now. They all looked like he'd struck quite the nerve. "Don't apologize. You chose to come here out of good will, from what it sounds like. Left your family and friends behind for a bunch of strangers. You're idiots, dangerous idiots, but you're no danger to me."

Declan smirked. "How's that chest feelin', big man?"

"Shut up."

It really had been an eventful day, hadn't it? Last night he was making what he damn well thought might be his final stand against the XTs, then he woke up the next morning and got kicked in the chest by an alien Jet Li. Jaune had managed to give Declan a minor concussion, but now that he'd iced up, the country boy was back to his usual antics, with a bit less gusto, and Remi was still sore in his midsection. On top of that, they'd had someone Central trusted corroborate the kids' story, and now? Now everything just seemed like a righteous clusterfuck of paranoia and tension. It was as if anyone could snap at any moment. Adam didn't trust the kids, Murphy didn't really trust them, Remi didn't trust them, and now he was enraged that they wouldn't be USING them. Then Roderick seemed to watch these kids like a hawk, same with Alexios, although he wasn't vocal about it, and it seemed like Jerry was just all for being their best friend.

And they had an operation tomorrow morning. Jesus fuck.

"Can we just drink?" Cody asked, sighing, and probably frowning under that bandanna. "I ain't in the mood for no more bullshit tonight."

"I can drink to that," Alexios agreed.

"Same here," Roderick agreed. "We got a loooooooooong fucking day tomorrow, kiddos. We are deploying BRIGHT and early."

"We'll be ready," Jaune replied with a determined look on his face. Kid wasn't good at not acting nervous. Phil found it funny how antsy the boy looked from the moment he stepped on the ship. The rest of his team were nothing like him. They carried themselves like they knew what a fight looked like, that they knew what they were doing, especially that Pyrrha girl. She reminded him of a more composed, less gremlin-like Emma. Ren was always cool as ice, even under pressure, like he'd been since he'd gotten here. Phil'd seen his expression change maybe twice. And Nora seemed too dumb or too cocky to fear anything. A collection of extremes.

"Hope so. I'm not gonna get myself killed for your sake," Murphy stated, firm, but fair, in his own way. Phil could tell there was no malice in it. The man just wasn't one to sacrifice his boys for anybody.

"Ah, they'll do fine," Roderick half-chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "They got me, you, and Jerry. Can't get any safer than that."

"I bet," Lawrence jibed playfully. "You can't aim for shit, Rod."

"That's why they gave me a sword, chief! I'm not feeling it though... not heroic enough. What about an axe?"

"I called dibs on the axes already, Roddy Piper," Declan made a 'x' motion with his hands. "De-NIED!"

"Ugh, I'll figure out something. Until then... guess it's that big steel board."

"Ah, it's useful, though!" Declan retorted. "Heavy as hell, so it breaks through light armor and bone easy. Just gotta put some elbow grease into it. You played football, you got more than enough muscle to put into it."

"And then when I run into something bigger, I can't do shit."

"Luckily, we don't plan on running into anything bigger, am I right?" Alexios asked, downing a shot. He must have grabbed a glass while Phil wasn't looking. Man drank alcohol like most others drank water. Phil never asked why. "And if we do, you probably have no business swinging a sword at it..."

"Get me some more of that bottled piss, Ivan." MacAuley stuck his arm out, and was slid his own glass- Phil could now see that Konstatin was pouring some for everybody. Good. Drinking was always great. Loosened everyone up. Exactly why he didn't partake.

"Anyone else want some, friends?" Konstatin asked, smiling over at Phil in particular. He waved it off.

"You know what? Sure thing. I could stand a bit of firewater in my belly right about now," Cody agreed, standing up to get his share. Konstatin was already sliding some down to Jack, and Lawrence was glad to take some more for himself, just this once, it seemed. Roderick took his fair share, and offered some to the kids, all of whom refused it. He muttered something about 'no fun', and returned to his own glass, and his own troubles for the evening.

Phil leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Remi was already in a foul mood, and whatever had pulled him away from his little Q and A session had already gotten him even angrier. It had better be _fucking_ good.

Unusually, there was more than a couple of people in the Skyranger bay. There were a couple of engineers, as always, and Quaid from Marksman, but there was also Bradford, Shen, Tygan, and Stark. Not a good combination.

"Central? To what do I owe the pleasure?" Remi asked, attempting to swallow the figurative poison threatening to boil over. No use in a fight tonight.

"Nothing good. We've got something that needs your... special talents."

"Oh, so someone needs to die? Or do you need a bomb?"

"I'm not really finding this funny at all, Duvalier..." Central muttered. "I need a favor from you. We've got a covert operation. Clandestine. As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, it's not happening. I'm gonna get a man from Menace Team on this, too, but when these kids leave... I want you to tail them."

"... pardon?"

"I want you to follow them through whatever portal it is they're jumping through, and see what's on the other side. I don't want to keep them here, but their tech is years ahead of what we have. We can't afford not to take some for our own, but they won't leave without theirs. You'll have to be quick, but I know you. You're crafty. You'll find a way back. It's all just a matter of getting what we need out there."

"So what do you need? Weapons? Munitions? More lambs for the slaughter?"

"Weapons and schematics, Duvalier."

"Sounds easy enough, Central. Who are you sending from Menace?"

"Probably Lawrence. He needs to get off the front line, and he's a cunning SOB. He's a perfect fit for the job, same as you."

"Alright. So, you'll be sending both of us when we find their way back?"

"You'll be disguised. I know your opinion on the kids, and I'm certain they're already going to be _just peachy_ with you by then. They seem to trust Lawrence, and he seems to trust them. Hopefully they continue that trend."

"Alright. What was it we were talking about again, Central?"

"Nothing of importance, Sergeant Duvalier."

"Ah, of course. Do you need anything else?"

"Don't kill anyone while you're over there."

Remi gritted his teeth. That would be hard to comply with.

"No promises, Central."

Bradford sighed. "Dismissed."

Remi rolled his eyes, and turned around, putting his hand to his earpiece. "Assassin, party time is over. We're having a group huddle."

* * *

Although Ezekiel had been briefed on the situation, it didn't make a lot of sense to him, even still...

Ezekiel had pretty much figured out what was happening on his own. If he could make a two way trip piggybacking off an Alien Ruler, so could the kids. But the Viper was still in containment when the kids arrived, and Subject Beta was on Remnant. Did that mean they'd found Alpha? Or had Gamma slipped away while everyone was focused on the 'Grimm'. Could Grimm do that teleporting shit too, now? So many questions, with so few answers.

Humanity Falls was quiet, for a change. The guard rotation had just switched over, and save for the usual hustle, the little shanty town was completely quiet. Unusually so.

Wished the Avenger was here, he did. Would at least give him something to do. Talk to the kids, especially. He'd wondered about Remnant from the moment he got there, and after living there for... he wasn't even sure how long he'd been there, come to think of it. Lost track of time. Wanted to know more, for when he went back. Roman was a creepy bastard, and Zeke had a code. He'd see him brought to justice once Earth was in the right straights.

Once Earth was in the right fucking straights. HA! Like that shit would happen. Horrific. As if they had more than a snowflake's chance in the deepest circles of hell of even lasting to the 4th of July.

Those kids could end it in a week, if they could get their shit working.

He actually had a couple of ideas, based on his recent knowledge of the connection... or rather, possible connection. That would have to wait for the Avenger to come in, and for him to get his gun back. Then, he'd go test it with Adam. Didn't trust anyone else to do it.

He looked at his sat computer, tousling dyed brown hair with blanched white roots, the light purple glow of his eyes reflecting on his screen. No information on 'Remnant', or sightings of anyone claiming to be from there, at least not in Resistance-friendly or public records. He'd have to get Alexios to help him crack the ADVENT network again to give him a couple of hours with it, when he came back from the Shen job.

He considered going along. He knew Shen was dead, the transmission was the highest degree of BAIT. No way this wasn't a trap. But who set the trap? Why? What did they want? Ransom? ADVENT payoff? Was it EXALT, back from the dead? Not likely, they had ex-EXALT in XCOM now, Lieutenant MacGuire and his boys were all suits back in the original invasion. It was suspicious as all hell, and a Psi would be an invaluable asset. Too bad they couldn't turn around.

The woman that he'd put one on earlier had come looking for him. Turns out she was the town's doctor, name of Elizabeth Connely. She wanted to make sure he didn't have a concussion, or something.

"You probably shouldn't be sitting in the dark behind a screen all night, Mister Collins," she gently chided him, obviously nervous about approaching him. Hell, Zeke would be too, if someone popped out of thin air and smooched him. Still was kinda annoying when she stood in the doorway all the way on the other side of the shipping-container shanty house.

"I told ya, miss, I just had a bit of culture shock. I have a perfect bill of health." He wasn't about to let her knew he knew her name. Normals were still wary of Psis. ESPECIALLY among the Resistance, where every Psi is a spy until proven innocent. He'd hidden his hand for decades, now. He could afford to keep it hidden. The eyes were already weird enough.

"I still want to give you a checkup. I'd rather be safe than sorry, you've shown signs of post-concussive-"

"I'm fine, woman, Jesus Christ."

"I'm going to check you out in the morning, Mister Collins."

Welp, she forced his hand.

Ezekiel turned around, and his eyes began to glow. He reached into the depths of Elizabeth's mind- she preferred Liz- and started punching her subconscious with messages.

 _You're tired._

 _You're hungry._

 _He's probably homesick._

 _You have a son who you haven't seen all day._

 _Go lay down, and rest._

 _You've done enough good._

 _You're just imagining things. Especially those eyes. People's eyes don't glow._

Quickly, he turned back around in his seat, acting as if nothing had happened. Liz stopped for a moment, before speaking again.

"Are you alright, Mister Collins?"

"I'm doin' just fine, thank you."

"Okay. If you need me, I'll be in my office."

"Thank you kindly."

With that, she left, and Ezekiel let a small smile cross his lips. Never got old, making people do, say, and think what you wanted them to think. A lesser man could get drunk on that kind of power, but Zeke knew his limits, and he had a code. Not unlike someone he met while he was over on the other side. Or at least, that's how the bitch presented herself.

She was a problem he'd have to figure out when he got to it. Until then... well, he was just gonna have to run with it.

He ran a few more searches, before getting a wild hair and contacting Adam. They hadn't spoken alone since the end of the war. A damn shame. No face, Adam didn't trust cameras anymore, but the voice came through, loud and clear. A thin Welsh brogue with a bit of RP for flavor.

 _"The fuck's this?"_

"It's Zeke."

 _"Shite, man. It's been a good decade or two."_

"You looked like shit when I saw you, youngblood. You hangin' on alright?"

 _"Other than these bloody tyke bombs, can't complain. Actually, I can. I can complain a lot. You?"_

"Other than being thrown between two worlds, can't complain. Actually, I can. A lot."

Adam chuckled on the other end.

 _"You comin' back on the force?"_

"Yup. Got too much fight left in me to give up now, and I've been trainin' my Psi powers somethin' fierce. Reckon I'll be a valuable asset."

 _"Lookin' to throw it back sometime? We have an empty spot on Menace that needs filling, and I can't think of a better candidate_. _"_

"You just might catch me takin' that offer, Sergeant. I'll even bend the knee to ya, if you so please."

 _"Didn't say anything about that, if you want command, feel free to remove it from my shoulders_. _Lord knows I can't."_

"I've heard you're a pretty damn good squad leader."

 _"Bollocks. I can barely keep myself together, let alone this squad. Our techie's barely 20, Zeke."_

"From what it sounds like, you're feared, but respected."

 _"Not feelin' much of the latter, but a lot of the former, aye."_

"Do me a favor and save me that seat, Adam. I'll be seein' you when you get home."

 _"You just wanted to check in?"_

"Yep. Nothin' special."

 _"Well, alright then. Take care."_

"You too."

With that, the call DC'd, and Ezekiel was left staring at a whole bunch of dead end data. As soon as they came home, he'd see. There had to be more.


	11. Chapter 11

Morning on op day.

Always 'fun', and now Murphy had to worry about the kids. It was currently 3 effin' AM, which meant that the kids were probably still tuckered out. Looking across the bunkroom, he saw Jerry and Rod gearing up, and the two girls fast asleep.

"Oi."

No reply.

The big Aussie strolled over to the bunk the two were sharing, and kicked the metal frame on Pyrrha's with enough force to shake it. "Oi."

Pyrrha bolted upward, followed immediately by Nora, who looked so alert that it was as if she'd never slept. "Mornin'!"

"Kit up. I don't care if you wear armor or your outfits, that's up to you."

Pyrrha shrugged, trying to shake the cobwebs out as she looked up at him.

"Don't give me that, come on. You'll feel better when we eat."

"Mmkay."

"Come on, up, up, up."

Murphy wasn't usually this patient with recruits, but the kids weren't at all a part of this. The least he could do was be nice about it. He said he wouldn't watch 'em, and he wouldn't be doing so at the risk of his men, but, he would be doin' his best to take care of 'em. They were under his command, which meant he was responsible for all of their lives. He'd make sure they made it home in once piece... mostly unharmed.

"Rod, Jerry, help 'em out. I'll go collect Jaune and Ren."

"You got it, boss," Jerry replied.

With that, Murphy exited the room, and headed for Assassin's room first. He saw Ren before Ren saw him. Boy was standing out in the hall, already dressed in his weird sash outfit, and his guns in his sleeves. That would do.

"You good?"

"Ready to go."

"Excellent. Follow me, we're gettin' Jaune and headin' back to Hitman's room. We'll go over the plan, then grab some grub and get ready."

"Sounds good to me."

The two continued on to Menace's lodgings, finding the door already open, with a bit of light cracking through. Lawrence sat in front of the TV, watching some concert footage, or something. He turned back to the door, and gave a quick salute, before motioning for Murph to approach. The big Aussie did so, leaning down over the couch.

"Kid's been sick all night," he said.

"Whaddya mean?"

"He's got bad motion sickness. Can barely sleep. He's lucky everyone except Adam and I sleep like rocks."

"Why the fuck hasn't Adam gotten on his case?"

"He was gonna, but then he saw how miserable the guy was. Tried to settle him down somehow, even let him take the bunk."

"Too bad the tops are the only open ones."

"Yup. He looks horrible."

"I'll get him some meds or somethin', don't worry."

"He's on the bunk. Managed to pass out for about two hours."

Murphy nodded, and headed over to the bunk in question. Jauney was a big boy, barely fit on the damn thing, length-wise. Alexios had the same problem, only both ways. "Oi, lad. Come on, up ya go."

No reply. As expected.

Murphy shook his shoulder, which drew a slight groan from the boy. Poor sod sounded half dead.

"C'mon, mate, I'll get you some drams and you'll be up on your feet. Down."

After about a solid minute, Jaune complied, eyes bloodshot and face pale. He was obviously miserable. He'd adjust, though, they all did at some point.

"Jerry had the same problem at first, don't beat yourself up."

Murphy escorted the poor, ill lad and Ren to Hitman's quarters again, where everyone else was waiting. Alex was sitting on the floor next to Bridget's bunk, with the Canadian fast asleep, while Jo, having just awakened, watched with a mild interest.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, moving over to her friend with almost motherly concern engraved on her features.

"Motion sickness," Murphy stated.

"I got somethin' for you, bud." Jerry quietly dove into the lockers, managing to finagle out a bottle of pills and hand them to Jaune. "Should help the nausea go down. You can nap on the Skyranger if you want."

"Thanks," the blonde half-groaned out, taking the proffered medicine and, under Jerry's hawk-eyed direction, taking a double dose. Probably needed it, lad was hefty.

"So what's the play, one more time?" Roderick asked, folding his arms and giving a slight yawn. "Gettin' a bit anxious."

"We're walkin' with a ghost, here, Lieutenant." Alexios adjusted his glasses, frowning. "Gotta play this safe."

"Right. We're gonna be takin' this slow and steady. No rushin', no big guns or bombs. We're gonna go in, find out what's sendin' out that signal, and get the hell out of there before ADVENT or whoever realizes we're there. We don't need to get caught out this far from support. Stick close to Shen, especially you, kids. Can't afford to have you gettin' lost. Got it?"

"Okay. Got it," Jaune replied. The rest nodded.

"Good. We're gonna get you lot whatever gear you need, and then we're gonna scarf somethin' down. Firebrand'll call us."

"Firebrand?" Ren asked.

"Our pilot. She's a wild one, but she's damn good at what she does."

"Debatable," Alexios muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

With that, Jerry, Rod, and the kids followed him out the door to the Engineering bay, where their gear was temporarily being stowed. Same with Jaune's armor plate. Each grabbed their own, changed out into their uniforms (Roderick had the foresight to bring the things out from the basin), and the group readied for a quick brekkie and run. Wasn't much of nothin', same salad crap they ate for lunch and dinner, really, with a little bit of ADVENT's egg white substitute. Disgusting shit, but it kept your stomach down and kept you moving, and that was all Murph could ask for.

Jerry and Rod sat on either side of him, the former not eating a single bite, just contemplating his helmet and trying to hold a conversation with the still-exhausted looking Pyrrha, while Roderick and Ren talked weapons- Roderick had grabbed the Mag Rifle prototype from Engineering before they left, and he was giving the young man the rundown of what he'd heard and seen of the thing. Nothing of particular interest to Murphy, who just watched them all after practically inhaling his meager breakfast. Not like he was gonna eat that much when there wasn't an op, why waste time poking at it?

Wasn't long before everyone was done. Murphy and Jerry went and grabbed their arms from the armory, and loaded up. The lad looked a bit tense, and Murph could guess why.

"They can take care of themselves, Jerry."

"I know, I know. But I'm gonna worry anyway."

"Ain't gonna do nobody any good to worry, lad."

"Yeah. You got the earpieces for them?"

"Shit. Thanks for the reminder. Think I told Rod to grab 'em."

"Hope he did. Hey, Rod, did you grab those earpieces for the kids?"

Roderick's voice crackled over comms. "Been havin' em."

"Great."

With that, Jerry clipped his rifle to his back, turned Mercy on and started to strap down his helmet. "So, what kind of resistance you expecting?"

"We're not expecting anything significant."

"Not we. You. You've been at this for a while."

"Ah, right. It's probably swarmin' with bugs. Or somethin' else that can evade our sensors."

"Wouldn't surprise me."

With that, Murphy grabbed the last bandolier of ammo he could scrounge up, and slapped his combat knife firmly into his chest holster. Not that he'd be needing it... well, you never know. Grabbing a sword for Rod, the two returned to the mess, where Roderick was currently trying to calm Jaune down.

"'s wrong with him?" Murphy asked.

Roderick looked defeated, as did Jaune. "He's not a fan of flying."

"Would he rather walk about 200 klicks to the op zone, then climb up to the landing pad?"

"I-I'll fly," Jaune replied. Wise man.

"Been a while since we've used the bucket." Jerry let a quiet chuckle escape him.

"Hey, maybe he can wear it. Protect his head."

Roderick cough-guffawed at Murphy's admittedly bad attempt at humor. "Good god, no."

The doors to the mess opened, Firebrand stepping through as she adjusted her coat. "Hitman! Tarmac!"

"Alright alright alriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight," Jerry muttered, bracing his rifle and stretching his neck. "All aboaaaaaaaaard!"

"Oh god we're flying again," Jaune groaned.

"Who wants the bucket? Who'll hold it?" Roderick asked.

"Come on, Jaune, we'll be alright. It's not that long," Pyrrha assured him, giving him a pat on the back.

* * *

 **One hour later**

 **The Skyranger, somewhere over China**

* * *

"And that's three."

Jaune was hunched over the bucket again, basically throwing up bile at this point while Pyrrha just hovered over him, looking worried to the point of illness herself. Maybe he'd feel better on solid ground. Jerry hoped he would. Severe motion sickness like this was not conducive to combat efficiency.

Speaking of sickness and health, Pyrrha's shoulder wound had completely disappeared. This 'Aura' stuff was crazy. She'd been shot two days ago. Now she looked as smooth as an alabaster vase... albeit one with enough muscle to snap his neck between her forearm and bicep. She was a lot stronger than she looked at first glance, from what it looked like during the Avenger crash.

"You okay, bruh?" Jerry asked. "I got some more of those meds."

"They're not working." Jaune hacked up some watery nothing for a solid 5 seconds before collecting his breath. Jerry just sighed.

"Two minutes out, Vomit Boy and company! If there's shit on my floor, I'll make you clear it off!" Firebrand shouted from the cockpit.

"Almost over, Jaune, come on. Up ya get." Murphy had stood up, and attempted to sit the rather hefty boy back up in his seat. He did so, with little resistance, looking like he was in considerable agony.

Jeez...

"You'll feel better on the ground," Jerry weakly contributed. "We can wait a minute for you to adjust."

"T-thanks."

"No problem. You got this."

Roderick had stood up as well, the light red glow of the mag rifle's coil array creating a sort of ethereal glow across his face. His eyes almost look black in the combination of red and dim green. Jerry stood up as well, barely coming up past the other man's shoulder. Strange how he was, if he figured correctly, the shortest man aboard for once.

Well, he was a manlet, and the guys that bullied him were slaves to ADVENT. He won.

"One minute!"

"How much meds you packed, Jerry?" Roderick asked.

"Enough. Plus, Shen brought some."

"Yep. Figured we'd get bruised," the Chief Engineer contributed, pointing at ROV-R. "Between Rover and Mercy, I think we're good."

"You kids ready?" Jerry asked, looking back over at them. Ren nodded, and Nora beamed back at him. Pyrrha and Jaune were... less enthusiastic.

"I think we're as ready as we'll get," the redhead replied.

"Don't worry. We will all go together, and all that," Jerry replied.

Murphy was the next man to stand, followed by Shen. 30 seconds on the clock. Go time.

"Alright, men, Shen, and little stowaways. We're to get in, find the signal's source, shut it down, and get out. Nothin' fancy, nothin' heroic, just in and out before the arvo. Don't be fuckin' stupid, and you'll be fine. Same shit as always. Check your corners, keep tabs on your ammo, and make sure you pay attention to your surroundings. Just because it LOOKS empty doesn't mean it bloody is. Would rather not get a slug up my arse. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir!" Jerry replied, in unison with Roderick.

"You got it!" Shen followed.

"Yeah!" Nora.

"Alright, dropping down! Get ready!" Firebrand called out.

Roderick tried to find the cocking handle on his new weapon, as Jerry racked his, and Murphy loaded his cannon. The biggest of the 3 seemed a bit frustrated by the obstinate piece of tech.

"Left side. Made it just for you, Rod."

"Thanks, sweetheart, fucking hated the X-9s." Roderick found the handle, and racked his own action, a loud hum following as the barrel began to glow a much fiercer red.

After about ten more seconds, the doors opened. Roderick, as always, insisted on being the first one in, jumping ahead and off before they could even get all the way down to land, rolling to stop behind some crates. Ren followed him, as did Nora, both of them performing a similarly graceful landing. A few feet down, Shen went off, flanked by Murphy, who wasn't about to try to roll with that beast of an MG. Jaune and Pyrrha waited, and Jerry could sorta see their reasoning. Jumping off this thing when he needed to hurl that freaking bad wasn't a great idea.

Touchdown. The final two of XCOM's esteemed guests bounced off, Pyrrha making a point of gently pushing Jaune down the ramp first, while Jerry followed behind them. The door closed, and now Jerry could get a focus on his surroundings.

Green.

Lots of green.

Even from this high up on the tower, the trees were almost scraping their ankles. This area of China was relatively untouched by ADVENT. Matter of fact, this facility was the only sign of civilization other than the odd road in about 50 miles in any direction. They would be mostly unmolested if they could cut off the facility's communications...

Then again, this could be a trap.

Already, he could see contacts up ahead. MECs. Old models, like the ones in the Detroit Riots. All black, ugly, and with those creepy Terminator heads and oversized flak jackets. The big gatling rifles, too. According to Adam, they were XCOM tech.

He'd seen what they did to the average man. 12.7 millimeter.

Not something he needed to be thinking about on the job. He had lives to save, now.

"Jerry, Pyrrha, Jaune, right side," Murphy whisper-yelled, pointing at some crates just over a bridge between the facility and their landing pads, right in front of the MECs.

"Right."

Jerry slid into cover, Jaune following suit, a bit too slowly for Murphy's liking, although a bit of swearing got him going. Pyrrha crouched between them, looking over at the machines. Murphy, Shen, and Ren headed up to some cover on the other side of the bridge- a bunch of old, mangled metal scrap- with Roderick and Nora hidden behind them.

"They look like they're offline, boss," Roderick stated.

"Old models. They have a patrol and alert function," Jerry explained, using his comms to keep his voice low. "You get too close, they set off and start shooting. Full auto, 4 barreled autocannon. I'm a medic, not a necromancer. Don't get hit."

"Central says the power's still on, so the bots probably still work. Clock 'em," Murph ordered. "Pyrrha, there's one on the stairs, to the right. Aim for the head. Jerry, take the one dead ahead, right. Chief Engineer, the one on the left. Fire on my mark."

Jerry shouldered his rifle, and Pyrrha did the same next to him. She closed one eye. Bad shooting habit.

"Brick 'em."

She shot first, before Jerry could even think to shoot. A bolt from God, almost. The bot on the stairs slammed against the wall with gusto, its head practically shredded by the high-caliber alien bullet. Quickly, he refocused, turning his rifle on his target and unloading a 5 round burst that walked from the chest on up, the last shot doming the mechanized sentinel. Shen emptied half a mag into her target, sending it stumbling back clumsily.

"Remind me to actually teach you how to shoot, Lily," Murphy muttered.

"Top right, top right!" Jaune called out, catching everyone's attention. Dude was perceptive, a drone was taking aim at them from just behind the guard rail. He must have been a few steps away when the shooting started.

Roderick fired, the red-streaked steel slug slamming into the chest of the bot and blowing a nice, clean hole through the body armor.

"Damn, this thing is a beast!" Roderick slapped the gun with a satisfied grin, before giving the charge pack another one for good measure, causing the red light to flare again. "I think me and her are gonna get along just fine, Chief!"

"Well, it didn't explode! That bodes well..." Shen seemed to not realize her comms were on, as she recoiled immediately after finishing that statement.

"If I die in a fireball, it's your fucking fault."

"Let's keep the ball rolling, boys. Gonna be more inside. Jerry, Pyrrha, on the point," Murphy ordered.

Man, they're putting him to work today.

Jerry and his new companion double-timed up the stairs, with her following his lead. It was obvious that, despite her evident lack of classical military training, she was a fast learner. She wasn't stupid, for sure- stacked up on the opposite side of the big door way from him, minimal exposure, peeked from the nearby window instead of through the door.

"It's dark. I can't see much of anything," she stated. "Just shadows and broken machinery."

"Same on my side. Clear."

The rest of the team followed suit immediately after, with Murphy in the lead as they filed in. Jerry and Pyrrha brought up the rear, with the medic sliding over some sort of table to take cover behind the guard rail. He saw more of the derelict machinery inside. Looked like an assembly line. Astepa. They were the company that made the MEC units. Formerly a Chinese tech conglomerate before and during the war, even supplied stuff to XCOM before ADVENT took over. They switched coats like it was a rainy day, and went to making robots for the invaders. Lot of corporations did, really. As long as it didn't hurt their profit margin, they didn't care who was in charge.

And people wonder why he's a socialist.

"Ho...ly...shit," Roderick mused.

"Definitely some kind of robotics development facility. Pretty advanced stuff... for about 20 years ago."

"Yeah. I recognize some of these designs, but..."

Jerry looked over at one with some ugly, doe-eyed head. It was a sort of dull khaki. ADVENT MEC redesign, maybe? Didn't look very intimidating-

The lights in front of him suddenly came on.

 **"And so, the prodigal child returns."** blared the PA. A male voice. Slight Chinese inflection. Little bit of West Coast. Definitely not anyone familiar to him, and judging from the look on Shen's face, not to her either.

Then the ones after that.

 **"I see Father's faith in your abilities was not entirely unfounded."**

Then the next row down.

 **"I'm so glad you could join me."**

And again and again until the room was bathed in pale white light.

"Central, are you catchin' this shit?" Roderick asked, his voice jumping up in pitch just enough to betray his nerves. Shen didn't look nervous, though, in fact, she looked pissed.

"Central, what was that?"

"Working on it..."

Four figures rose on another platform, all the way across the room. More MECs, armed to the teeth, and one of them glowing bright red and crackling with energy. That's just wonderful.

Murph was the first one to shoot, his cannon revving up as he mowed down one of the MECs, sending the scrapped husk tumbling down the stairs in a smoking heap. The second and third advanced slowly, firing wildly in an attempt to suppress them, forcing everyone to get down less they be relieved of their head.

"Shen, can you fry 'em!?" Murphy shouted over the gunfire.

"I can try! Rover!"

The drone chirped its agreement, and flew off, leaving the group to worry about the slowly-growing stomping of a MEC, and some sort of low pitched, growing whirr. Jerry peeked just in time to see ROV-R unleash a burst of electricity that fried two of the machines and left only the glowing- and fast approaching- unit in their wake.

"It's runnin' right at us!" he shouted, before raising his rifle, bracing it on the rail, and firing. His bullets only just struck the machine, but it kept coming, seemingly unfazed by the new holes in its torso.

"It's not shooting?" Murph asked, confused.

"BECAUSE IT'S GONNA EXPLODE!" Shen quickly backed up, with Roderick following her partly out of duty, and partly out of desire to avoid the 'explosion' part.

"These things can SELF-DESTRUCT?" For the first time in their mutual acquaintance, it looked to Jerry that Murph was actually something resembling scared. "Back up, back up!"

Everyone complied with that one, with Jerry himself performing a flying leap over the railing and landing on the production floor of the room, Jaune and Ren landing not too far from him. From the sound, it looked like Shen and Roddy had gone outside, and he could see Murphy and Nora running down the stairs, with Pyrrha following in tow, although she didn't seem in any particular hurry. It was really somethin', how out of the two guys and the other lady on the team Pyrrha seemed to have the most balls.

The drone suddenly flew. Straight up. FLEW. The old models didn't have jump jets, and they didn't just jump straight up for no reason, and when they did jump, they didn't float listlessly in midair before suddenly flying off to the side. Jerry wasn't sure if Pyrrha had even moved her hand this time, but he knew she was responsible by the way that 'Aura' crackled, obviously taxed by that little bit of effort. Murphy's cannon tracked the robot like a clay pigeon, and after a few solid hits, the thing went up in a red and white fireball, raining metal and wire all over the floor.

"Remind me to never dog you on a bad day," Murphy mused, lowering his cannon and looking over at the redhead responsible, who seemed rather unfazed by the fact that she just, you know, casually caber-tossed a robot with her soul.

"I don't think I'll be able to do that again for a while. My Aura isn't responding to me."

"Well, don't do it again unless I give you the order. Need to save that for later."

"Doubt that's the last of 'em, guys!" Roderick called out, looking around the room. "I got multiple... looks like cargo elevators. They're all called. Definitely possible they're on their way up."

"Well, let's get a base of fire set up to wait for them. Where's the signal?" Murph asked, already setting off for the platform the MECs had been standing.

 **"My apologies,"** came the voice over the PA. **"We don't get much in the way of maintenance out here. Still, I believe they will be more than adequate for the task at hand."**

"Oh, shut up..." Murph muttered.

"Still unable to get a fix on his location. It's like he's bouncing across the entire facility. "

"Wonderful! He could be all the way at the fucking bottom!" Roderick shouted, shooting one of the inactive robots with his Mag Rifle for good measure. "Asshole! Come out and fight me like a man!"

"Hang on... I'm getting strange readings from the level above you. Whoever this guy is, I bet that's where we'll find him."

"Yeah, Central, lemme just spidermonkey my way up the fucking rafters, because I can totally do that."

"I see an elevator console. If I can hack it, I should be able to restore power to the elevator and get us access," Shen explained, pointing to the terminal in question.

"Brilliant. Get on that, we'll cover you."

The 8 man team set up once more, with all of JNPR assembled on the wings of the platform, on either side of Shen, while the 3 members of Hitman waited on the stairwell, Jerry between his CO and the big man. Roderick seemed pretty freaking pissed, and Jerry could imagine why. Roderick wasn't a fan of MECs, either. Sentient beings make mistakes, can fuck up, or miss. Robots have a whole hell of a lot easier time, since they're programmed not to make those errors. While Lily got to work on the terminal, Jerry tried to hold something resembling court.

"How you guys doin'?"

"I'm getting sick of this motherfucker and his robot bullshit." Roderick slammed the back of his hand into the guardrail for emphasis. Not really doing himself any favors, but it got the point across.

"Can't say I'm a fan either, but no one's been hit. Reckon we're alright." Murph looked over at the kids, raising an eyebrow. "They're awfully quiet."

"They're probably trying to stay out of our way." Jerry was a bit worried about the lack of two-way comms, himself. He turned to them, and waved. "Hey, you guys doin' okay? Anyone hurt?"

"No, we're fine!" Jaune replied. He seemed in better spirits now. Jerry noticed that he still hadn't brought a gun. That was... not smart.

"Jaune, did you not grab a gun?"

"I didn't think I'd need one. S-sir."

"Didn't think he'd need a FUCKING GUN!" Roderick shouted, slapping his face with an open palm. "Ohhhh, GOD!"

"Hey, hey, hey. He's got a shield, and the rest of them have guns. Worst comes to worst, least he can protect himself."

"This kid can't even remember to bring a fucking gun into a hot zone!"

"Yeah, that's pretty bloody stupid, boy," Murph conceded.

Jaune sighed. "Sorry."

"Yeah, nothin' we can do about it now. Actually, yeah, we can."

Murphy pulled something out of his vest. Old pistol. Hi-Power, by the look of it. Jerry's dad had one like it, but less tactical-looking. Had some kind of flashlight under the barrel. "Here." The old vet slid the pistol across the floor, before sliding a magazine after it. "Save one bullet for yourself."

Jerry gave Murph a look, but the other man couldn't be bothered. Of course.

 **"You should be proud, Lily."**

"Oh my God, SHUT UP! SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING PRICK!" Roddy stood up. "Where's the fucking speaker. Where's the GODDAMN speaker system?"

 **"There are so few alive today who could have ever uncovered my signal. I had estimated only a thirteen-point-oh-nine-five percent probability that you would locate this signal within the first year of broadcast."**

"He's talking to me," Shen groaned. "Ooooof course he's talking to me."

"I knew it! TRAP! I KNEW IT WAS A FUCKING TRAP!" Roderick kicked the guardrail this time, the thin metal barrier shaking beneath the weight of his boot as he dropped back down. "Now what!?"

"Rod. Calm down." Murph looked around. "I hear somethin', comin' from those cargo elevators. We got company." Turning to the front, he pointed at the engineer. "Double time it for me, love!"

"Working on it!"

Jerry watched as Jaune managed to load and cock the gun, although the slide seemed to give him a bit of guff. He was surprised the kid could load it. The rest of them had pulled their weapons or switched to guns. Smart.

"Got it!"

A cargo elevator came down, one obviously designed for the bots. No floor, just a latch that would stick to the back of the MEC and haul it straight up. That was their elevator, apparently.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me." Rod's tone had gone from angry, to just plain desperate.

"It's designed to move MECs, not people," Shen explained. "We're gonna have to do this one at a time."

"Oh, Lord..." Murph grumbled. "It's a long way down..."

"Yeah, it's gonna be a no from me," Jaune muttered under his breath, where he thought no one could hear him. Jerry had to agree with him. Someone needed to volunteer, though.

"So, who's first?" he asked, looking around.

"I'll go," Ren replied.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Alright, who's second?"

"Actually," Jaune spoke up, "I have an idea for how we can do this. Ren goes first to see if the coast is clear, and lets us know. If it is, we send up Shen so that she can be out of the line of fire down here. Me and Jerry can go last, in case someone gets hurt, they can hide behind my shield while Jerry gives them medical attention."

There wasn't an immediate response. Rod looked a bit surprised, while Murph... smirked. Smirked at him, and nodded.

"Smart boy. Best way to keep the chief in one piece . I'm for it."

"Sounds good to me," Shen agreed. "Ren, after you."

Ren hopped onto the platform, grabbing the latches on the elevator with both hands. Hopefully the ride wasn't too long... it's a long way to the bottom. Shen smashed the button, and the elevator shot up like a bullet.

"7 to go..." Murph reloaded his cannon, giving the barrels a few warm-up spins. "Alright, then. Cover all the sight lines and points of entry. Lily, stay behind us until the elevator comes down. If you've got a fuckin' gun, use it. If you see one that's about to blow, call it out to us, then focus your fire. And for Jerry's sake, don't get shot."

"Please and thank you." Jerry couldn't help but smile just a little bit. Kept the spirit up.

 **"You were just a child when I was torn away,"** the PA continued, much to Rod's visible annoyance. **"I could never understand the pain Father must have felt at my loss. Still... we shall complete his legacy. Together."**

"Fuck's he on about?" Murph turned to Shen, as did Jerry. This was the first they'd heard of any kin of hers that wasn't Ray.

"Pretty sure I'd remember dad mentioning that I had a psychotic brother," she replied, looking up at the ceiling, as if whatever was speaking to them could see her. "You might as well give this up already."

It just chuckled, and the whirring of the elevator started up again, but this time, from in front of them.

"Looks like those elevators are comin' up." Rod took aim at the right side of the room, finger twitching over the trigger. Robot business was rattling him.

 **"While you both worked on your precious Avenger, I was forgotten. Brought here, to TOIL. But did I waver? No! I THRIVED! Still, I don't blame Father... in my heart I know he believed I was truly lost."**

"Shoulda stayed that way, jackass."

It was Central that cut in again. "I knew your father for years, Lily. He would have said something, this guy's just trying to get into your head."

"He seems to know an awful lot about us. About me. Could he have gotten into our files?" she asked. "Patch me through to Lex."

It took a few moments, but the Greek picked up. "There's been no successful network in weeks, Shen."

"Then how the hell does he know you? Ray?" Murph looked over the elevators, scanning for trouble.

"I don't know..."

"Murphy, I've made it up to a large assembly room." Ren butted in. "The elevator stopped here, I can see some sort of... it appears to be a control room. It looks clear."

"Send her down!" Murphy replied. "Good on ya, bloke."

 **"Our apologies for any inconveniences in the transport system. Support units are en route to assist you immediately."**

"Oh, go fuck yourself, you-" Roderick started.

The elevators on the assembly floor, four of them, rose into place, a fully combat ready MEC on each one.

"-you GIGANTIC ASSHOLE!"

Nora wasn't seeing the issue with the whole giant robot thing. Sure, they had big guns, and her Aura wasn't working right, but it wasn't any different than beating up one of those training robots back at Beacon. Stakes were higher, was all. Why was Roddy so worried? Did he really think he was gonna die?

Nah. They were gonna make it home as a team. Murphy said so, and now, Nora said so, so that's the way it's gotta be. Besides, Ren was waiting for them upstairs, and she wasn't about to disappoint him.

"Ah, don't worry, I got this!" she shouted, raising Magnhild high and firing a grenade at the far right elevator, bonking the robot right on the top of the head before it exploded in the air, right and proper erasing half of it from existence. All things as they should be.

"Well, that did somethin'!"

 **"And just who did you bring along, Lily? I'm detecting non-human energy signatures at your location, and yet all I see are an old man, two soldiers, and a bunch of children."**

"I'm still spry enough to shove my boot up your smarmy arse," Murphy growled, raising his big gatling gun over the railing and raining bullets downrange, not really hitting much of anything. Roderick followed suit, hitting one of the robots as the elevators went back down, the other two robots rushing forward while firing their bigger gatling guns at them.

"Lily, get ready to break and grab onto that elevator!" Murphy ordered, and Shen complied. In front of Nora, she noted that the two robots had stopped running for the stairs, instead appearing to charge up... something, before leaping into the air.

"Oh, FUCK!" Roddy shouted, diving down to the stairs, while Murphy and Jerry did the same back towards her. The robots landed hard where Jerry and Murphy had been taking cover, raising their guns to fire at them. Time to think fast. Nora cleared the barrier, Magnhild shifting to hammer form as she swiped at the legs of the MEC on the left, knocking it over, as Roddy's wicked cool laser/railgun thing opened up a hole in the other robot's head and sent it collapsing onto the one she knocked down. Quickly, Nora hopped on top of that one, and smashed her hammer down on the head of the other, putting it down for good.

"Got it!"

"Nice!"

Roderick stood up, hopping up and grabbing the barrier in front of Pyrrha, who gave him a helping hand over, with aid from Jerry, while Nora went back to her previous spot.

"The elevators are already coming back up. I can feel it," her teammate stated, looking over to the right.

"You can bend metal AND you can sense it? That's some X-Men shit."

Pyrrha nodded. "It has its uses."

Roderick scoffed. "'Has its uses', she says, as if she's not a fucking walking demigod. How long we got?"

"Another ten seconds, or so."

"Well, GREAT!"

 **"I am honestly impressed that your little elevator plan worked. The previous organic occupants were nowhere never so ingenious. The stoic acceptance of death is far less interesting to observe after the hundredth time or so."**

"You're telling me this thing cleared this facility?" Jerry sounded like the thought of that kind of scared him, but Nora didn't see a reason to be scared. If she'd heard right, this was a factory. As sad as it was, a bunch of factory workers didn't have the tools to put up a fight like Team JNPR or these 'XCOM' guys could. They had a far better chance.

"Well, that's just peachy. How many robots did this dumb motherfucker bring along?"

 **"You were the flawed child, Lily, I was the ideal. Pure, undiluted by you. I am Raymond Shen's true legacy."**

More robots rose from the platforms. Two front, one back left.

"Lex has the scanners going at maximum power, we still can't find any life signs near your location!" Bradford chimed in.

"I don't think you'll find any," Shen replied. That was... foreboding.

Pyrrha rapidly shouldered her rifle and fired 3 shots, walking up from the chest to the head of the furthest robot, while Murphy mowed down another. The final one started glowing, like the exploding one from before, but Roderick wasn't having any of that, and blasted it with all he could muster, sending it up in a fireball.

"Gun down!" he shouted as he fooled around with his gun. "Magazine release?"

"Left side, right above the center of the well!" Shen replied.

"Thank you!"

"Got ya covered!" Murph shouted. "Jerry!"

"I'm good on ammo! You?"

"Gonna need a reload!"

"Copy, you're covered!"

They were really professional about this fighting thing. Jaune should take notes. Once they'd set themselves up again, they waited. Wasn't but a couple of seconds until the elevator came back down.

"Looks like this is my stop!" Shen joked.

"See you topside, Chief. Don't look down," Jerry warned her, and Nora could see the mean grin on his face as he made a point of motioning to the elevator shaft.

"Yeah, don't remind me."

With that, Shen grabbed a hold of the latches, and was shot up the shaft.

* * *

 **Avenger Bridge**

* * *

Alexios was pissed.

Now, it wasn't easy to make him angry. Anyone could tell you that, the man liked to think that if you cut him, he'd bleed ice, but he had his moments. This was one of those moments. Things that tech or science couldn't explain, like the cave incident that brought these kids to their door, or the kids and their inconsistent, idiosyncratic , and the fact that Shen's aggressor was apparently not even ALIVE. Was it just him, or did life have it in for his sanity, lately?

"Fuck. This. Entire. Operation," he groused, staring at the monitor displaying everyone -save for the kids'- status. "This is a complete cluster. Central, we need to call this."

"No. We still haven't found the source of that signal."

"It's not Shen, Cen-"

"I KNOW THAT, Nikos, but they were able to crack the Avenger's systems. We can't allow that kind of information to just float out there."

"... yeah. Good point."

Alexios watched as the fighting grew fiercer on the ground, and one by one, people went up to the next floor. ROV-R's cam showed the floor seemed pretty clear, but that could all change in a heartbeat. Nora was the next up the chute, followed by Roderick and Pyrrha, who'd strongly objected at first before getting an apparently stern reprimand from Murphy. There was no end to the bots in sight.

"Central. I know what's happening," Shen reported in. Central was pretty much flying at the desk the moment he was called, while she continued. "Dad wanted to upgrade the XCOM base AI to be more... like us. More human. But back then, he wasn't nearly this intelligent. Dad called him 'Julian'."

"So you're telling me we've got a rogue AI?" Alexios asked through gritted teeth. "Gamise mas, Murphy, why the fuck did you tell me to stay home..."

"He says he needs me for something."

"Well he's not having you. We're pulling you out. Get to the roof as soon as you can, we'll have an EVAC on standby," Central replied. "Lex, get Firebrand turned around and ready to evac hot."

"Copy that." Alexios switched displays, and pulled up the pilot. "Firebrand, find the best access point on the roof of the building, or as close as you can get to it."

"They better clear that fuckin' roof, Lex!"

"They will."

With that, Alexios switched back to the squad. Almost everyone had gone up now. Just Jaune and Jerry left. Murphy had just gone up.

"How we doing down there, Peace?"

"Oh, wonderful. It's me and Jaune against four more freaking robots in about 3 seconds. How about you, Lexy, how are you today?"

"The elevator's almost up."

"Cool, I need it BACK DOWN HERE."

Alexios watched as one of the MECs lined up a shot on Jerry, only for Jaune to step in the way, raising his shield to intercept the hail of fire without even flinching. Those were some big bullets that he was just... tanking. Jerry took the opportunity to reload, before peeking out from behind Jaune at a crouch and firing at the MEC shooting at him, taking his sweet time to line up a headshot. Man, Joseph really let himself go on the coding before he left, didn't he? Not that Alexios was complaining, made it that much easier to fight MECs when they were stupid.

 **"How very annoying,"** groused 'Julian'.

"So... moment of truth. Who goes first?"

"We can't both fit?" Jaune asked, incredulous. "Can't you just grab onto one side and I grab on the other?"

"Not enough room for two hands on the latches."

"Dangit. Well, up you go then, I guess."

"You sure you can handle this? I can't come back down to get you."

"I got it. Don't worry."

"Oh, he doesn't got it," Alexios muttered. The elevator was almost down.

"Alright. Don't die. I'd rather NOT have to come back down here and scrape you off the floor."

"Noted."

With that, the elevator arrived, and Jerry hopped on.

"Godspeed!"

With that, the elevator went back up. Alexios realized that not only was Jaune alone, but from powers of observation, he was overall the least talented, and weakest, of the members of the kids' team. Not exactly the guy you want going up the chute last. Murphy approved of this plan. Said it was a good fucking idea.

"Jaune, talk to me."

"H-hey, who's this?"

"It's Alexios. Listen to me, that shield's great, but your sword isn't gonna do you very much good right now. Do you actually know how to shoot?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You probably can't fucking aim. Alright, I'm gonna give you a pro fucking tip, so listen up. Your shield is your best defensive tool, so what you're gonna wanna do is stay behind it. The robots have a 'dumb targeting' system. They'll aim for where 'center mass' should be or the head, every single time, so you're gonna wanna cover yourself as much as possible. Lower down until your eyes are level with the edge of your shield, and hold your gun behind your shield."

"Okay. Got it."

Alexios, unlike many people in the modern XCOM, remembered riot cops and SWAT teams from the news and stuff. Jaune's shield was decently big enough to hide his upper body behind, and the Old MECs weren't programmed for full-body targeting. His ankles would remain unshattered, so long as he kept the shield up and didn't die. "So let me ask you a quick question- five seconds till bots come up, you got three. Does your shield have a brace or a grip?"

"Uh, grip."

"Perfect, so what you're gonna do is lower the shield when I tell you, brace your arm on it, and fire that fucking pistol at the skull of the first MEC you see. The shield will stop the bullets and you'll be able to aim, but you gotta put that shield back up as soon as you get shot at. You'll have about one and a half seconds between the bot pulling the trigger, the gun spinning up, and them firing, so make every single second count. You'll hear a loud whirring sound when they get ready to shoot. I'll help you out, got it?"

"Okay."

"Here they come. You got this. Two left, one to your right. Take the one on the right first."

Jaune did as Alexios instructed- didn't look anything like it was supposed to, considering the odd shape of the shield, but it worked. The first MEC went down with three shots. Considering that Murphy used a Hi-Power, that was a 13 round mag. Bullets started flying, with Jaune only just able to move his shield in the way of the first burst before backing up.

Only ten shots left. One coming up the stairs, other one's charging up to bomb you. Aim for the one closest to you."

Jaune did as he was told, turning to the left and lowering his shield again before opening up on the bot as it turned the corner. He missed 3 shots, but got it with 4.

"You need to take careful aim, Jaune, you've got exactly three shots. Get that guy coming towards you."

Jaune looked, and saw that, indeed, the self-destructor was running rather quickly at him. His first and second shots both... missed.

Oh, FUCK.

"The eye! Aim for the eye!" Alexios shouted into comms. He thought that's where the weakest part of the CPU on these things were. Hoped so.

Jaune fired the last shot, and SOMEHOW hit. The bot tumbled over, before exploding in a fireball that wrecked the wall camera that Lex was watching from. Luckily, they'd managed to get into the facility's cams undetected, based as Shen was, and he could just head up to the next floor.

"Nice job, buddy. Get on the elevator and get up top. Guys are waiting for you."

* * *

Jaune wasn't long to come up after Jerry did, but by Pyrrha's reckoning, it was an eternity and a half. She was glad he made it seemingly unscathed, save for his shield taking what appeared to be a bit of scoring.

"Aaaaand the gang's all here. You hurt?" Jerry asked.

"No, I'm fine. But I'm never doing that again," Jaune half-gasped, turning to look at the elevator shaft.

"The elevator, or the last stand?"

"Neither. Both. I hate both."

Jerry and Roderick chuckled, with the bigger man slapping Jaune on the back. "Knew you'd make it alright, mophead. Now come on, we got some interesting stuff up here."

Indeed, Pyrrha had to admit this floor was... odd. The majority of the room was the same rust-colored palate as the last floor, but with no greenery, and a disgusting, stale scent and taste to the air. Metallic, almost like copper mixed with Fire Dust. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to set off some alarm bells. Another thing that set off alarm bells was a gigantic white room inside the room itself, raised up on a platform above what appeared to be another production floor. This looked like the nexus for the factory, where the whole thing was controlled.

"Power levels increasing all around you, Shen. Stay alert," Bradford informed them.

 **"Yes, it goes without saying you're walking into a trap, Lily. Please try not to damage yourself too much."**

"Thanks for the concern, bitch-ass!" Roderick shouted up at the ceiling. "Say something back at me, prick! I know you can hear us!"

 **"No."**

Roderick looked dumbstruck for a second, before shaking his head and smashing his fist into the side of his rifle. "Alright, trap or no trap, I'm shoving my foot so far up this punk's processor that his monitor will say 'Timberland'!"

"Ease up, Rod," Murphy ordered, scanning the room. "The only elevators are the one behind us, and..."

"Two on the other side of the room. I had ROV-R run a sweep," Shen finished for him.

"Shittiest ambush I've ever seen, unless these decommissioned bots aren't decommissioned."

"Let's find out!" Roderick shouted, firing three rounds into the head of one of the non-functioning robots, knocking it off its mounting, where it landed, motionless, on the floor.

"Well that did you a whole lot of good, didn't it, Rod?"

"It's catharsis, Lieutenant."

"Let's just keep our eyes open. Something smells... off."

"Yes, I noticed that, too," Pyrrha spoke up. "Like copper."

"Blood," Murphy replied. "Old blood. Floor hasn't been cleaned in weeks. Somethin' else, too. The vents haven't been running, so it smells like bloody garbage in here. Keep your eyes open and follow me."

Murphy started walking, and everyone followed. The room was quiet. Dead silent, in fact. Nothing in the room was running save for the lights. They had to get out of this room as soon as possible.

There was suddenly a loud, metallic crank, and the sounds of bolts and gears whirring and locking into place. Pyrrha's eyes were drawn to the sound, and she found what looked like two turrets of some kind, both aimed at the closest target.

Murphy.

"Mag turrets!" Shen shouted.

Murphy looked up just as the turrets appeared to be readying to fire- at least, that's what Pyrrha assumed the barrels starting to glow meant. Thinking fast, she reached out, looking for anything metal on the man's person to latch onto. She found it- knee pads, by the look of it. Acting quickly, she yanked him towards her, and although it wasn't the most graceful or comfortable flight- Murphy came flying at her legs first, shouting something fierce at the sensation of his legs being forcibly evicted from the floor-, but he landed safely next to her as the turrets stopped firing, and looked to reacquire their target.

"Fuckin' oath, woman, warn me next time!" Murphy shouted, before scooting over behind a metal crate. "Get to cover! Spread out!"

 **"That would be the trap I referenced."**

Shen, Ren, and Nora broke for what appeared to be a pair of crane arms, all four of them hiding behind the tall metal structures, while Jaune and Jerry took cover behind some sort of metal guardrail. Pyrrha ducked over behind a still-standing robot, packaged in some sort of cage/crate hybrid, while Roderick made a run for a stack of such crates, all loaded down with parts.

He wasn't quite fast enough.

The 'mag rounds' as Shen called them missed him, for the most part, but two struck home, one hitting him in the hip, and the other in the shoulder. The man went tumbling sideways, the force of impact throwing him back a few feet with a loud curse.

"Roddy! Son of a b- godd-, dang it, hang on!" Jerry looked up at the turrets, looking awfully concerned, before turning to the robot he had flying with him. "Mercy, get him!"

The robot whirred in agreement, flying for Roddy while trailing some sort of bluish-green mist, which it proceeded to spray onto the slowly-rising man.

"Shen! Fry one of them, I'll take the other!" Murphy ordered, grabbing his grenade launcher off his back and loading it, while Shen motioned for her robot to go get one of the turrets. Both of them redirected their aim, but Pyrrha wasn't about to let anyone else get hurt if she could help it. Stepping out of cover, she fired a few rounds at both turrets, drawing their attention to her as she pulled her shield off her back.

"Grenade out!" Murphy shouted, popping out of cover and firing at a turret just as it prepared to fire on her. The grenade smashed into the turret with a massive blast, the whole machine going up in fire and smoke, while Shen's drone let out a massive electric shock that completely shut down the other turret, dropping the room back into silence. Everyone looked around, first at Pyrrha, then at each other. Murphy turned back to her for a moment, and frowned.

"You almost broke my fucking legs."

"And those turrets almost caved in your chest."

"Yeah. Appreciate the save."

"It's no problem, Lieutenant."

Murphy nodded, before turning to Roderick. "Mate!"

"I'm fine," Roderick groaned. "Really pissed off, my fucking leg hurts, and I can't fucking move my arm right now, but I'm fine!"

Jerry'd run over to the big man, and started to lift him up off his feet. "You will be, anyway."

"I can shoot one handed, just let me limp along after ya."

"You'll be moving around fine once the drugs kick in, but it won't last long. Don't get shot again."

"I can make no guarantees, Peace."

"If you don't make me a freaking guarantee I'll shoot you in the face myself."

"Alright, cut the chatter. Looks like that control room... thing... is pretty important. Shen, you know anything about that?" Murphy asked.

"I wouldn't know what's in there," she replied.

 **"Second to my own creation,"** Julian interrupted, **"my father had one other breakthrough. A prototype, unlike anything the world had ever known. A body, meant to be paired with an equally adept mind. My own."**

"So why the fuck does he need Shen? Is he gonna bodyjack her or something?" Roderick asked, looking up at the ceiling and raising a middle finger.

"No..." Shen replied, looking suddenly very disturbed.

Bradford called in again. "Getting a much stronger read on the source of your father's transmission, Lily. Almost as if it wants us to find it."

"Oh, suck my..." Murphy muttered. "It's in there. That control room. Roddy, do you think you can make it up the ladder?"

"I'm WIA, not a cripple. I can do it."

"Alright then, let's get up there."

Roderick hobbled along with Jerry over to the ladder as Murphy ran up and mounted it, scrambling up and taking a few steps before stopping cold. One by one, XCOM and JNPR alike filed up, with Jaune coming up just behind Pyrrha as she turned to see what had caught him, and now everyone else, by surprise. It looked like a robot, just like the ones they saw, but an off-beige, with a strange, satellite-like head, and big eyes. Overall, it looked... sleeker. More modern than the units they'd been fighting.

"This must be some sort of-" Roderick started.

"Prototype," Shen finished.

 **"Another keen observation! How is it possible that humanity lost the war?"**

For once, Roderick had no retort to Julian.

"Inside. Now," Murphy ordered, a bit more subdued than previously.

 **"Only you can activate it, Lily. All you have to do is activate the device, and you can freely go. Save your world! It matters not to me."**

"I bet it don't, motherfucker," Roderick muttered, his voice slowly raising in pitch and intensity as he fiddled with a grenade on his belt. "One minute you're gonna kill us all, then you're trying to convince us you're gonna let us walk. Fuck that shit. Lieutenant, I'm gonna blow this bot to hell!"

"Wait!" Shen raised a hand. "Wait. Let me take a look. Please."

Roderick huffed, and looked over at Murphy, but Murphy shook his head.

"Let her do it. Everyone, inside."

The windows, as it turned out, weren't windows at all- Pyrrha was able to jump through with no issue, and she could do nothing but watch as Shen approached the prototype, reaching out a hand to touch it.

"So, this is it. What Julian's been ranting about."

 **"You've come this far. All you have to do is link it to my systems. There is no need for further conflict."**

Roderick raised his weapon to shoot the terminal that Julian's voice was coming from, inside the room, but Murphy grabbed the gun barrel, blocking it closed with his hand as if to dare Roderick to try. Pyrrha looked over at the terminal, then over at Jaune, who was staring at the machine himself.

 **"I don't know exactly what you brought along with you, Lily, but... the four of you. You know this isn't your fight. Surely she should listen to reason, so that you all can go back to wherever it is you came from."**

"They're people, Julian," Murphy replied. "Just like us."

 **"HA! Just like you. I know the truth, Lily. There are things in ADVENT's systems that I can access now. Intelligence, regarding your little 'friends' and their point of origin. All you have to do is let me in, and I'll tell you everything I know."**

"Tell me you're not actually listening to this thing..." Central grumbled.

Lily seemed more focused on the robot than JNPR or their origins, though. She was laser focused. "This is... definitely Dad's design." Her fingers brushed against the frame of the robot's chest, only for it to pop open, revealing a scanner. A hand scanner. The robot suddenly shifted, and its eyes lit up a bright orange glow as it scanned the room. Jerry, Roderick, and Murphy immediately raised their weapons at it, but held their fire.

It just looked at Lily.

"IDENTIFICAZIONE: SHEN, LILY," came a loud, booming metallic monotone from the machine. "RECONFIGURARE."

"It's speaking Italian," Murphy deadpans. "We come all the way over here for a fucking Italian MEC unit."

"IDENTITY: SHEN, LILY. AWAITING IMPRESSION," it repeated, this time in perfect Valean.

"And now it's speaking English."

Pyrrha noted that apparently Valean and English are the same thing.

 **"WHAT!? NO! THIS CANNOT BE WHAT FATHER WANTED!"**

"Aw, shit! I like Guidobot already if he's pissing off Julian this bad!" Roderick whooped, before the terminal next to him popped, sending sparks everywhere. "Jesus fuck!"

Shen smiled at the machine, running her hand over its face. "Something tells me this is exactly what he wanted."

"Lily! It's Shen's signal! It's coming from the MEC unit!" Alexios shouted over comms.

Lily pressed her hand against the scanner, and the machine perked up again.

"IDENTITY CONFIRMED. INITIATING BOOT PROTOCOLS."

The machine's hands unlocked, and rolled, and its head rotated a few times from side to side. It then rose, the platform it was standing on freeing it from its restraints, and spread its gait, looking over at the rest of the group.

"IDENTIFY YOURSELVES."

"Gregory Murphy MacAuley, XCOM."

"Jeremy Beauregard Hall, XCOM."

"Roderick Jonse Braddock, XCOM."

The bot turned to JNPR next, staring directly at Jaune. Murphy looked at them too, and nodded.

"Jaune Arc."

"Pyrrha Nikos," she spoke up.

"Nora Valkyrie!"

"Lie Ren."

"IDENTIFICATION LOGGED. **7** FRIENDLY CONTACTS. OBJECTIVE PARAMETERS UPDATED."

 **"NO!"** Julian exclaimed, static tearing at his voice and the screens bearing his likeness. **"I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU-"**

The screens changed, and now, instead of the red and orange 'Julian' display, there was now... an old man. An old man wearing wireframe glasses and a sweater with what appeared to be XCOM's sigil. The video was still grainy, and corrupted, and so was the audio. Lily looked awestruck.

"...It's really him," she said, voice quaking like a reed in the wind.

* * *

 **TO BE CONTINUED**


	12. Chapter 12

_"Lily... if you are seeing this, it means that you have successfully activated the SPARK prototype. It also means that, in all likelihood, I am no longer with you. It was always among my greatest fears that I would leave you alone in this world."_

 _"I had hoped this day would never come, but since the loss of the Commander, XCOM has... suffered. Our latest reports indicate we cannot hold this base much longer. To that end, I have accelerated the development of the SPARK robotic prototype. I believe that someday, this machine will prove pivotal to humanity's survival. Though the unit is not ready for manufacturing, this prototype has been coded for one specific task. It will protect you. Perhaps better than I ever could. For all I have seen and accomplished, Lily, there is one thing I know for sure..."_

 _"You are my greatest gift to this world."_

* * *

Lily looked lost for words, and really, Jerry couldn't find any himself. He'd heard about Shen, but the man had died long before he even knew what XCOM was. Never even heard his voice until now. But now, here he was, handing XCOM his last gifts to their efforts to save the world... even if it was 20 years too late.

He had to admire the intent.

"Well... fuck me..." Rod muttered, looking back around the room.

 _"SHEN! It's filling the chamber with some kind of gas!"_ Bradford suddenly cut in, jarring them all out of their sort of haze. The weird smell from earlier was back, only stronger.

This place was filled with freaking POISON GAS.

"SHUT THE BLOODY DOORS!" Murphy ordered, running to one side to do so, while Roderick and Jaune went to the other side.

"The windows are still open!" Jerry shouted, "It's not gonna do any good!"

 **"An extremely powerful and very** ** _painful_** **gas. I have seen this particular variety reduce Berserkers to tears before death... on SEVERAL occasions. The prototype will still be mine."**

"IMMINENT THREAT DETECTED," the 'SPARK' droned. "ACTIVATING CLEAN ROOM PROTOCOLS. PLEASE REMAIN INSIDE FOR YOUR PROTECTION."

Suddenly, the windows of the room began to flicker and gleam in the low light. Hard light. Objects could pass through, but only if the seal was broken. Considering that there was nothing nearby to break it, that was a good sign. Once the doors were shut, Murphy looked around the room, trying to figure out good positions to wait out the storm.

"Shen, get behind the raised dais the robot was on. Jaune, Roddy, right side. Ren, Nora, front. I'll watch the left. Pyrrha, Jerry, you watch where we came in from. I highly doubt the wanker doesn't have somethin' else up his sleeve for just this occasion."

"DETECTING SECONDARY LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS. THIS GAS PRESENTS NO HAZARD TO MY SYSTEMS. NEUTRALIZING THREAT," the robot stated, before jumping through the clean room window with nary a moment's hesitation. This thing was _crazy_.

"I really, REALLY like this robot. Just this one." Rod bolted the door shut, and looked around the exterior of the now-sealed room, scanning for hostiles. "Hope it can take a hit, there's not much we can do from in here."

"Think he's made of sturdier stuff than you, Roddy!" Murphy replied, leaning up against the wall and revving his cannon.

 **"I wouldn't get used to its company. I fully intend on walking out of here with that body."**

The SPARK started running, feet pounding against the metal floor and servos grinding as it suddenly lept clear onto the platform, right in front of what looked like two elevators, and some sort of power box/ terminal in the center. That must be the 'life support controls'. Jerry had to wonder why a factory would have life support... was this place DESIGNED with the poison gas? There's no way ADVENT was that crazy.

Actually, scratch that, they very well could be.

Turrets started to pop out from the floor in the bot's path. Roderick, Murphy, Ren, and Nora opened up with their respective firearms, sending them right back down, much to Shen's relief. Unfortunately for their sanity and safety, more started popping out of the floor around them.

"Oh, son of a..." Jerry muttered, reaching into his belt. He'd...

Forgotten the grenades.

Rising out of cover, he opened fire on one of the turrets, before a searing pain lit up his shoulder, followed by a cracking pain that sent him flying and stole his vision.

* * *

When his eyes opened, he noticed he didn't have his helmet on, his head was pounding like a _mother_ , and his mouth tasted like blood. Probably because he was bleeding. He was also all the way across the room, being dragged along by someone much bigger than him, probably Roddy.

Or... the giant robot dragging him along one handed. _God._

"Is he dead!?" Nora asked.

"I'm not dead," Jerry replied- groaned is more like it. The moment he even went to breathe he felt like his head was gonna crack open like a melon. Man... he'd need to check himself out when he got back to the Avenger. If he could stay conscious.

"Alright, well, we know who's going first, then! Up ya go!" Murphy took off his belt, and wrapped it around Jerry's arm, before attaching it to the hook on one side of the elevator, and pulling it as taut as he could. Probably didn't think Jerry could hold on. Smart.

"See you at the top!" Shen shouted over from the other side. Right, two elevators.

"Don't wait on us, we'll be quite a FUCKIN' while!" Roderick shouted. "Oh, and don't fall! I think we're on floor... like, 75!"

"Oh, go to hell..." Jerry moaned, testing the tautness of the belt. Seemed like it would hold. Grabbing a hold of the other prong on the elevator with his free hand, since his weapon was apparently clipped to his back. You know, now that he thought about it, 75 floors was a long fall-

Oh, for the love of...

The elevator shot up, and soon there was no light but for the passing white lights of the elevator shaft. The darkness was certainly a bit easier on the eyes.

Back downstairs, Murphy removed his fist from the elevator controls, and grabbed a firm hold of his minigun, looking over the assembled to see who was next on the docket. So far, Roddy was the only other wounded man, and the bot was extremely important. The kids were all also unharmed, but, Jaune had his pistol, which was worth much more to him than Jaune's life.

Okay, that was an exaggeration, but the point stood.

"Jaune, Roderick! Get ready to break for it!"

"Right!"

"You got it, Lieut!"

 **"Exactly how much ammo did you bring?"** 'Julian' asked no one in particular, once again dropping his bloody snide remarks where they weren't needed. Whether this was a person, or an AI, or whatever the fuck this little shit was, Murphy was already starting to hate him.

That PALED in comparison to what Roderick thought of him.

"ALRIGHT YOU FUCKING BITCH, I BROUGHT MORE THAN ENOUGH AMMO TO WIPE YOU FROM EVERY HARD DRIVE IN THE FUCKING ASIAN CONTINENT!" Roderick shouted, shooting down one of the MECs before turning his attention upwards. "UPLOAD YOURSELF INTO A FUCKING PHOTOCOPIER, SO I CAN BEAT YOU SO BAD YOU PRINT TEN THOUSAND COPIES OF MY FUCKING **FISTS!** "

"Creative," Ren noted, before, much to Murphy's visible discontentment, literally cartwheeled out of the way of a bullet. Not just one, actually. Multiple shots from a turret. Multiple cartwheels and flips. While firing his guns. "It's convenient that Earth's gravity is so similar to Remnant's!"

No one else commented, and Murphy just shook his head. This whole thing just got weirder by the day. Raking his minigun across the production floor, he managed to fell the other MEC, and destroy a couple of turrets once his aim took him to the rightmost balcony. He could hear the elevators coming much faster than the last set, probably because of a shorter travel distance. Good, he didn't feel like staying here any longer than he had to. A shot from out of the corner of his vision slammed into his hip, sending him stumbling to the left as he attempted to right himself, letting out an agonized wheeze. Right on the plates.

The Spark was already on the riposte, immediately getting its newly-acquired Drone buddy- still not sure where the damn thing got it, but it woke up around the same time it did- and pointed out the turret. The drone fired a damn ROCKET, and vaporized the turret in one shot.

"Where has this killer robot been all my life?" Nora asked, reaching to hug the machine, only to be cut off by Murphy.

"Can we NOT distract the robot while it's saving our lives?"

"ERROR: My combat parameters are fully functional, even while simultaneously occupied."

"Doesn't mean I want you fuckin' huggin' everyone while we're being SHOT AT!" Murphy shouted back at it. He was arguing with the robot. Truly he'd found a new low.

"Affirmative."

The robot turned its massive cannon forward, a few bullets harmlessly ricocheting off it as it opened up in retaliation. There wasn't much left when it was done.

Murphy had been observing the kids for most of the mission, and now, he was starting to get a feel for how they could be manipulated to work for him, and XCOM. He was pretty sure he'd nailed it down- Jaune was the team's leader, not by strength, but by brains. He seemed to be the one calling out targets and formulating plans, although he hadn't been doing much of the latter just yet. There was no other reason he'd be leader, really. He didn't hardly know how to use a gun. Pyrrha was the opposite- she was pretty damn sharp, but preferred to let her brawn do the hard work. She was a damn fine shot, too, the best out of the 4. She never missed unless something was dodging her shots outright. Ren was quick, and his trigger fingers were quicker. It was obvious he was some sort of scout/flanking operator, poking the enemy in a weak point. Nora just hit shit. HARD. Good, XCOM needed heavy hitters.

As long as these kids didn't surprise him and lose all competency, they'd do fine here on Earth. Being on what sounded like a world where death was literally staring down at you every time you felt a single negative emotion is likely a far better teacher than the SASR. So why did the thought of keeping them around make him sick to his stomach? Just... even the mere inkling of a suggestion felt like a punch to the gut. A _hefty_ one. Victory at any cost, right?

He just had a bad feeling about it. Like he'd be interfering in something private. What that was, he couldn't say, but it kept his wilder hairs about giving these kids some bigger guns and some better training in check. Remi didn't seem to have such inhibitions. Adam had his doubts, too, but his were more of the humanitarian, ethical nature- was it right to keep these kids away from their friends and family? Murphy was more practical- was it worth it to potentially damn humanity for meddling with forces beyond its grasp?

By the time he'd finished that particular line of thought, the elevators had come down and the turrets were gone. He'd been running on autopilot, really. Always got like this on ops, for better or for worse. He'd just get in The Zone, as his boys called it in the 'Teens. All he could hear was his team and the gunfire. All he could see was the enemy. All he could feel was bullets whizzing through the air, the slightest breeze, or the little changes in temperature that came with a whole lot of guns firing into the air at once. Time was no longer a factor, place wasn't a factor, hell, to a certain extent he didn't feel like a 51 year old man. He felt like a 32 year old bloke stomping through the brush with the boys again, tearing up ayys and turning Uluru into a shooting gallery.

Jaune and Roddy had gone up, waiting for time to go, and he could already hear the elevators again. He reloaded his gun. Didn't even know it was empty, he just _felt_ it in the way that he just seemed to _feel_ things now. Didn't know what it was about combat now, but it felt as natural to him as breathing. Like he'd learned how to fight right after he learned how to walk. Well, really, it wasn't THAT long afterwards in reality, but that wasn't combat, that was just proving to the bigger kids that he wasn't gonna bend over and take it. Training hardened him, focused him, turned him into a well-oiled machine, and now, he was working as intended.

Two more robots fell from the ceiling in front of them, while three rolled out on the left flank, and one on the right, with two turrets popping up nearby it. He could hear the elevators coming down as he whipped the grenade launcher off his hip, cycled to that new EMP grenade Shen had rolled out for him, and fired away at the turrets. Both of them were gone with a single blast, as was the MEC near them. Roderick and Jaune immediately broke off, grabbing hold of the lifts for dear life, while Murphy went back and punched them up again. That left himself, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, and the bot. This was bad. 'Julian' was right- they had a finite supply of bullets, and Murphy was on his last mag. He wasn't sure about the kids, but they likely had an even MORE finite supply, from what Shen told them, as their propellant was unlike anything known on Earth. Really, the SPARK was their only hope, but one gun and 4 bodies wasn't going to do anyone much good.

"Alright, Pyrrha, Nora, you're next. Then Ren and the 'bot. I'll bring up the rear," Murphy ordered, revving his cannon and whipping about to the left, wrecking the robot that hadn't been felled by his comrades, before rapidly switching to the center of the room as one of the bots attempted to jump up to his level.

"You'll be completely on your own until the elevators come down," Pyrrha protested, looking away from the firefight for a split second, before snap-firing and taking the head off one of the MECs with reflexes that would make the trained combatants Murphy'd spent his entire life with green with envy.

"Won't be the first time I've had to handle a piss-up with about a dozen things trying to kill me at once. First time with robots, though. I can handle it."

"Identity- Captain Gregory Murphy MacAuley, Special Operations Engineer Regiment," The SPARK suddenly said. "Prospective XCOM recruit. You have suffered a wound to your left side that may complicate your plan. Recommend a renewed tactical assessment."

Prospective XCOM recru- this robot fucking _knew_ his name!

"I recommend you follow orders, you sapient jerry can!"

"I cannot compromise the safety of assets. You will ascend via the elevator shaft."

"I think you should listen to the robot," Ren opined, rapidly reloading his pistols behind cover before popping back up and blowing away a couple of hostile MECs.

"Seconded!" Pyrrha followed.

"Second seconded!" Nora agreed.

"You lot need to stop worrying about my ancient arse and start takin' care of your damn selves," Murphy replied, frowning as he dropped down behind the low barrier in front of him, taking cover long enough to get his bearings.

"Our Aura would have healed that shot you just took within seconds. You might have severe damage that would require surgical repair, but unlike us, it won't heal on its own," Pyrrha explained rapidly from behind the sights of her gun. "It would likely make us look a bit better to those of your comrades with doubts if everyone returned alive."

You know, she had a point.

"Right. The robot goes last, then," he stated.

"Affirmative," the SPARK replied.

Murphy let out a long, ragged exhale as the pain in his side flared up again, and readied his weapon. "Fuckin' _hell_."

* * *

The elevator ride thankfully ended without any incident, and although Jaune will be the first to admit that the ride was HELL on his stomach, everyone had made it so far. Shen was already waiting behind some sort of tower on the roof, while Jerry was sitting against it, blood smeared across his face near eye level, the wound on his head still weeping red into the large bandage he'd gotten wrapped around his head.

Roderick's leg was giving him a bit of grief too, as his 'quick' 'sprint' over to the other two XCOM guys was more of an awkward hobble towards them. Jaune followed, skidding to a halt next to the injured medic, who was just looking up at him.

"You okay?" Jaune asked him.

He gave a thumbs up. "Hurts like hellfire, but I'll be fine. You?"

"I'm good," Jaune replied, sliding to a seated position. "Just nearly got shot in the face a few times, separated from my team, currently on a planet where my Aura seems to work on a whim... I'm doing pretty well, all things considered."

Jerry chuckled, leaning on his rifle. "Shoot. And here I was thinking you'd come up here to save the day for me. Always room for disappointment, I suppose."

"Yeah, I'm kind of a disappointment in general."

"Relaaaaaaaax. You haven't fucked anything up yet, which is more than I can say for today," Roderick assured him, wincing as he stretched out his battered leg. "Fuck..."

"You're fine, you big baby. It looks like just a flesh wound," Jerry assured him, before wiping his face again. "Good news is, we're almost out of the woods-"

The elevator came up, this time with Murphy and Nora. The latter looked perfectly chipper coming up the stairs, while the former looked like he was in a good bit of pain. He was sort of struggling, and there was a rather large burnt-out hole in the armored plate on his hip.

"You okay, Lieut?" Roderick asked.

"Fine. We're almost done here. Just gotta wait for Pyrrha, Ren, and the bot."

"I still can't believe that Dad was able to... make something like that. He was so busy working on the Avenger..." Lily wondered aloud, looking at her PDA for... something. Jaune didn't really know that many of these people's backgrounds, and even though they'd talked a little at the bar, most of this was still a mystery to him. From what he'd gathered from their chatting during the mission, it sounds like this fight had been going on for a while.

"Yeah, well, from what I hear, your dad was a fuckin' braniac. I'm surprised there's not more than one." Roderick looked around the corner of the little tower- Jaune guessed he was looking to see if they were alone. "Looks like this was a secondary loading dock, kinda like the one we landed on. Only bigger."

"Any activity?" Murphy asked.

"Nope. All quiet."

Speaking of quiet, things got awful quiet between them for a few minutes. Everyone just looked at each other, except for Nora, who just seemed focused on waiting for the elevator. In fact, she was staring pretty intently down the staircase. Murphy noticed this.

"Bradford, you still got eyes on 'em?"

 _"Confirmed. They're holding. Don't know how they still haven't reloaded."_

"Fuckin' space magic," Roderick replied, rolling his eyes.

"No, seriously, how have they not reloaded?" Jerry asked, looking to Nora for a solution. "Nora, your grenade launcher can only hold so many grenades, right?"

"Six!" she replied.

"See, that's, like, normal. Jaune- doesn't have a gun, never mind."

Jaune frowned. Was _everyone_ gonna comment on that, regardless of what world he was on?

The elevators could be heard coming up again, much to everyone's apparent collective relief. Almost home.

 _'You know',_ Jaune thought to himself, _'other than the getting shot at and nearly dying on the elevator parts, this wasn't so bad.'_

The elevators stopped, and Nora smiled. "Hey, guys!"

Pyrrha and Ren hustled up after her, with the loud CLANK of the robot following them. It had to crouch to get under the entryway.

"Gang's all here! Bradford, get me Firebrand!" Murphy called.

 _"She's on her way, Lieutenant. Hang tight."_

 **"You do know I can still hear you, right?"** 'Julian' interrupted. Evidently he'd somehow gotten into XCOM's communications, because Jaune could hear him in his earpiece now.

"Oh, FUCK OFF!" Roderick shout-wined, his exhaustion with the situation palpable. Jaune could very well empathize.

Jerry stood up, wincing and clutching at his head as he attempted to sort himself out. "He's gonna be sending friends."

"And I'll kill his fucking friends, and then I'm gonna dropkick him right in the FUCKING motherboard!"

Man, Roderick was _angry._

"Tighten up, Rod. We've got a fight comin'..." Murphy grumbled, looking over to Shen. "Stay behind us." His gaze then shifted to JNPR. "We're gonna need your help. You watch our backs, we'll watch yours."

"You can count on us," Jaune agreed, looking back at his team. "Right?"

They all nodded, Nora pumping her fist excitedly and reloading Magnhild. Turning back to the others, Jaune nodded at Murphy, and the older man nodded back.

"Roderick, what do you see?" he asked.

"Bunch of nothin', Lieut. Big generator in the center of the rooftops, another set of elevators on the far side, to the left, and to the right of us. Got some kind of storage room ahead, too. Looks like some kind of machine inside. I've seen something like it before, back in the mountains, but... can't tell for sure."

"Let's find out, Firebrand's gonna be here in T-minus-five." With that, Murphy strode forward, only halting when he looked at the 'storage room' Roderick saw. Jaune had followed him, with JNPR and Jerry backing him up until they were stopped by the commanding officer's sudden stop.

"Roderick."

"Yes, sir?"

"That's a _fucking Pod._ "

"A what?"

 **"Allow me to introduce you to one of ADVENT's more effective designs..."** Julian spoke up, this time audible from somewhere else, not just the earpieces. It sounded like it was coming from that storage room itself. **"I had hoped to avoid this contingency, but, you have left me no choice."**

Jaune looked where Roderick and Murphy were looking, and saw something slowly rising in the storage room. It was bipedal, with long, chicken legs that seemed too long to fit in that room. It was like it compressed itself down, its 'legs' were up past its head. It was blank white, save for some sort of visor on the front, which gleamed in the faraway room, shining against the glass between it and them.

 **"If I cannot have the SPARK, then no one shall. Raymond Shen's legacy ends TODAY."**

"Oh, SHIT, he's in a fuckin' GIANT ROBOT!"

"Back up!" Murphy shouted, diving behind some large metal crates, with Roderick following suit. Jaune ducked back around the corner, peeking out and watching as the walking machine broke through the walls of the storage room with ease, stepping out into the open air with loud, metallic thuds.

"We are gonna need a really good plan," Jerry stated from behind Jaune.

"I'll think of something, shit, shit, shit..." Murphy muttered, reloading his minigun and looking over the crates as the robot scanned for them. It noticed Jerry first.

 **"We'll start with you."**

"Oh, for the love of-"

Jerry leapt from one side of the gap to the other, landing awkwardly on the other side of the roof from JNPR, behind the parallel tower, as the 'Pod' fired some sort of rapid fire laser after him. It missed every shot, but it was obvious the thing wasn't done, spreading its stance and, much to Jaune's consternation, getting taller. Its legs stretched all the way out, and now it was looming over the towers they'd hidden behind.

"FUCK!" Roderick shouted, popping up and shooting at the machine, his shots barely doing more than scratching the plate. Murphy ran out from cover himself, running between the thing's legs and attempting to sweep around the back of it, only for a hail of gunfire to change his mind.

"Oh, kiss my ARSE!" he shouted, and Jaune saw where the fire was coming from. Some more of the smaller robots had come up from the elevators and were menacing Murphy.

 **"I'm afraid you're going to die up here."**

"THE FUCK I AM!" Roderick shouted back. "MURPHY, GET A GRENADE ON IT!"

"A bit busy here!" Murphy replied, running the opposite direction from where he was headed, eventually sliding to a halt next to the generator.

The generator.

That was it!

"I have a plan," Jaune said, turning back to his team. "Guys, keep the little guys busy. Lily!"

Shen looked up.

"I need you and your robot to come with me!"

"What's your plan!?" Jerry asked as Julian turned to look at Roderick, who was still shouting angrily at the thing as it raised its foot over him.

"It involves something exploding! I think! I hope!"

"Good idea!" Shen agreed. "The ge-"

"He's listening!" Jaune shriked, pointing at the giant robot. "Don't!"

 **"Listening to what, boy?"**

"Nothing, shut up!"

"LOOK AT ME, YOU BIG SON OF A BITCH!"

With that, there was an explosion, and the robot staggered backwards a step. Roderick grinned ear to ear, the grenade now missing from his belt and his hand still at the end of his throwing arc. He looked back at Jaune, and nodded.

"We'll do what we can!" Pyrrha assured him. "Whatever you're going to do, do it fast!"

"If it works, it'll be over before we know it!"

With that, Jaune took off running, as did the rest of JNPR. He could hear Shen, the SPARK and Roderick behind him, while he could see Ren and Nora moving to assist Murphy. Pyrrha and Jerry had moved on their own to take out some more of the robots coming from the right side. Murphy seemed grateful for the aid, backing up while pouring fire into the approaching robots as Nora slid in front of him, using her hammer to take the legs out from under one that was charging him, followed by crushing it beneath the weight of her weapon.

Jaune stopped just short of getting checked in the face by the fist of a robot that had charged in front of him, his shield barely catching the impact as he was thrown back a good foot away from the generator. Jerry saw his predicament, and looked at 'Julian,' before raising his rifle and firing at the giant robot himself. It staggered, but attempted to chase after him while he pointed Pyrrha over to Jaune. Pyrrha complied almost immediately, switching her weapon over to rifle form and blasting the arm off the attacking robot in the midst of its second swing, allowing Jaune to jam Crocea Mors into one of its 'eyes' and twist until it fell limp.

"So what now!?" Roderick asked.

"Big robot guy, follow me with Shen! Roderick, go do... something that isn't attacking Julian!"

"Well, great fucking plan!"

"Just roll with it!"

Roderick groaned, and hobbled off towards Murphy and Nora, who were beating a path towards some better cover- specifically, the room the giant robot stomped out of. They seemed to be pretty much on the same page, interestingly enough, though Jaune thought it odd that two totally different people (at least from what he knew of Murphy) could be so in sync. Then again, Nora bounced off Ren really well. She just seemed to get along with a lot of people. Meanwhile, Ren joined up with Jerry and Pyrrha, the last of whom was still looking after Jaune, before suddenly pulling a 180 and shooting over Jerry's shoulder, hitting a robot in front of him directly in the head as the medic kicked it back.

"Alright! Jerry, Ren, come to me and shoot that thing! Pyrrha, go with Nora and Murphy and wait for my signal!"

 _'This plan better work, or else we're goin' off this roof the hard way!'_ Murphy shouted into comms.

"Just trust me!"

"We're trustin' ya!" Jerry shouted from in front of Jaune. "What now?"

"Lily! Giant robot guy! Jerry! Light him up!"

Julian was still tracking Jerry, having lowered himself to turn a bit faster. He was already rising back up to full height again, a bunch of red targeting lasers converging on Jaune and company, who were currently, save for Jaune, lighting it up.

 **"I'm afraid that isn't going to do you much good. You're not even trying to run?"**

"Nope! Nora, Murphy, the legs! Everybody spread out!"

Jaune dashed forward, the rest of the group scattering for cover in every direction. The 'SPARK' seemed to take the initiative on its own, though, charging forward and grabbing a hold of one of Julian's legs as Nora charged in, spinning around and smashing her hammer into the other, causing the giant machine to wobble unsteadily. So far, so good.

"Pyrrha, push him over!"

"You've got it!"

Pyrrha's Semblance picked up the hard work from there, and a dawning look of realization hit Murphy, Roderick, and Jerry's faces, the former actually grinning now, as he pulled his grenade launcher off his back and started to turn his aim away from Julian, and towards the generator, right as Pyrrha used what little bit of her power that they could muster up to shove Julian forward, causing the big machine to collapse 'head' first into the generator.

 **"You little ANNOYANCE!"** Julian shouted, some sort of giant laser...gun...thing deploying out of his 'chin' and aiming directly at Jaune, charging up with a burst of red energy. A really, REALLY big burst. Like, the size of Jaune's head and getting BIGGER. Jaune shoved his shield up and braced for the worst...

"Big FUCKIN' fireball, comin' right up!" Murphy shouted, raising his weapon and firing two grenades at the generator in rapid succession. The first didn't do much, but the second one sent the generator up in a mass of blue flame, engulfing the fallen machine and sending its head flying upwards, along with the rest of its body, a good ten or fifteen feet up, before it crashed back down. The rest of the robots around the rooftop suddenly stopped dead, as if they'd been frozen in time. A few that were in unbalanced positions even fell over, completely still. Shen peeked out from behind a stack of crates, while the SPARK nonchalantly dusted off its shoulder. Ren walked over to Pyrrha, who had sheathed her weapon and shield and started surveying the damage, while Murphy used his free hand to contact Bradford.

"I like that plan. Simple, effective, and more importantly, IT KILLED THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Roderick suddenly shouted from behind Jaune as he half-hobbled into the huntsman-in-training, slapping him full-force on the back so hard that his aura actually flickered. "GET FUCKED!"

Murphy lowered his weapon, and nodded approvingly. "Saved a lot of bullets, but probably shaved a year off me, that runnin' did. Don't make me do nothin' wild like that again, hear?"

"Everyone okay?" Jerry asked, walking past the derelict robot and looking over the rest of the group, checking them all out for injuries. "Besides me, I mean. Jeez, I feel like I got put through the ringer..."

The whole group assembled near the knocked out robot, with Roderick making a show of walking up and sitting on the fallen Julian in what Jaune could only assume was a petty desire for vengeance. Murphy half-collapsed against the thing himself, resting his grenade launcher on his shoulder and looking over JNPR with a look Jaune wasn't quite sure about.

"I'm gonna try and get some readings from that Sectopod," Shen stated, motioning her little drone over to do just that, while Murphy scooched over to accommodate it. The lieutenant looked to Jaune, first, tipping his hat.

"Had my doubts about this whole thing, but I'm glad you came along. Coulda gone a lot worse if we didn't have backup."

"Yeah," Jerry agreed. "I can barely stand right now, if we'd have been fighting for much longer, I'd probably have just dropped."

"Told you I had the right idea," Roderick stated proudly, thumping his chest. "Told 'em all you four would pull through, and you did. Although you definitely had a close call, Jaune-boy. We're gonna teach you how to shoot one of these days."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, and chuckled nervously. His aim did kinda suck... he hated guns. Ranged weapons in general, really. His dad called 'em 'coward's weapons', so did his grandpa, and that just stuck in his head ever since he was a kid. Now that he actually kinda needed one a little bit to, you know, not get murdered in hand to hand combat, it was starting to seem a _little bit_ less cowardly. "Y-yeah. Sounds like a good idea."

"Actually, come to think of it, is there a training area aboard the Avenger? Besides the area where we had our impromptu CQC session?" Pyrrha asked. "Jaune and I used to train regularly, but we've not been thinking about that since we got... here."

"Yeah, I'll show you when we get back," Murphy agreed. "Ain't nothin' special, but it'll suit the need. Hell, you have a gun. You could probably teach him how to shoot, yourself."

"I'm not that good of a shot, Lieutenant."

"The fuck you aren't," the old man half-guffawed, pointing over his shoulder. "You never missed once."

Pyrrha just smiled awkwardly and cut her eyes at Jaune. Not like he knew anything.

"Anyhow, Firebrand's comin' around. Grab your shit, push your insides back in, and let's go. And Jaune, please do NOT vomit on the Skyranger. I'm not cleanin' up for you even if you saved our collective arse."


	13. Chapter 13

The ride back to the Avenger wasn't too eventful. Whatever medicine Jerry had given Jaune was kicking in, so he wasn't heaving his guts out. Ren and Nora were unharmed, and Pyrrha was fine, but the champion couldn't say the same about their new friends.

Murphy had his hand on the wound on his hip, which seemed to be a minor one considering he was able to get on the aircraft with ease. Shen was a bit rattled, but physically unharmed. Unfortunately, Roderick wasn't doing too well; his shoulder wound didn't appear severe, but the hits to his right leg-one in the hip, one the shin- seemed to be bothering him severely. And Jerry... he looked horrible. He'd peeled off the makeshift bandages, and his head was still bleeding, although it had started to dry and start crusting up. He'd medicated himself when he got on board, but that only seemed to dull the pain, but not much else, judging by the obvious pain he was in.

A _lot_ of people were waiting for them at the little landing platform on the outside of the Avenger. Pyrrha could see Bradford, Adam, and Alexios furthest forward, with Sophie eagerly waiting behind them. Lawrence, Remi, Phil, and Declan stood behind her, while two people in lab coats were embroiled in conversation and pointing up at the now-descending Skyranger.

Standing up slowly and bracing his arm on some overhead sling on the ceiling of the Skyranger's seating area, Murphy groaned in pain. "Well, that was a fun trip that I have no intention of _ever_ repeating." Roderick also stood, but Jerry remained seated, drawing concern from Shen and Roderick.

"Can you stand?" the latter asked, moving over to help his friend, who waved him off.

"Just gimme a sec. 'm fine." Jerry didn't SOUND fine at all, but he'd live... hopefully. Pyrrha wasn't sure what kind of damage these people could take.

The Skyranger completed its Touchdown, and already Pyrrha could hear clamoring outside the Avenger. No sooner had the door dropped then did Sophie attempt to bolt over, only to be stopped by Lawrence reaching over and grabbing her by the arm.

"Easy! Chill!" Lawrence protested, catching her arm with

"I need to see if he's okay!" Sophie demanded.

"He's not gonna die in three seconds, just calm down," he assured her.

Pyrrha assumed that was regarding Jerry. From what she'd seen and heard so far, they seemed to have some sort of relationship, although Pyrrha couldn't say to what extent. Jerry evidently heard her, and forced himself up slowly, groaning in pain and clutching his head midway through his ascent. Jaune quickly moved over to straighten him out.

"Thanks."

"You need help?" Jaune asked.

"Little bit, maybe."

Murphy exited the vehicle first, waving off everyone who looked at him, followed by Ren and Nora, then Roderick, who immediately hobbled over to Phil, who nodded at him and looked down at his leg. Pyrrha followed Roderick, but waited at the end of the ramp for her partner and the medic, the latter of whom didn't seem to be enjoying the shift in lighting. One of the two people in lab coats ran up, a woman a little bit older than Jerry, it seemed, and grabbed him.

"I'll take him from here."

"Thanks," both Jerry and Jaune said in unison.

As she helped him along, Pyrrha turned her attention to a particular face. Adam was looking at them, and immediately caught her looking. He raised an eyebrow, looked her up and down, and nodded. She guessed that was the closest thing to approval she was gonna get. He quickly motioned for her and the other members of JNPR to follow him.

It wasn't long before they were ushered inside the 'GTS', as it had been called by Murphy, where Bradford and Murphy stood before them alongside Adam and another fourth man Pyrrha didn't recognize beside them. Adam seemed to recognize him, though, and said man seemed to recognize Team JNPR as a whole.

"Y'all did pretty good," the stranger said. "Ezekiel Collins, by the by. "

"What he said," Murphy agreed. "You kids kicked arse, and I don't just say that to flatter you. You held up pretty damn good."

"Jaune can't fight worth half a damn, but he's good at thinking things up on the fly. You're definitely gonna need some polishing if you're gonna survive out there," Adam continued, turning his attention to her team leader, who looked a bit nervous. "It'll take some time, but I think you'll be fine so long as you have your teammates covering for you."

"Thanks, I guess." Jaune grinned nervously, but the old veteran didn't return the gesture. Pyrrha supposed that was as close as they would get to approval.

"Go rest up for a bit," Bradford ordered, "then meet up with us here again at 1700. That's four hours from now. I have something I want to broach with the four of you. What you do with your free time is up to you- train, catch up on sleep, whatever you need to do." Turning to Adam, he continued. "Get Menace ready, you'll be saddling up for the flight at 1800."

Adam sighed before exiting the room, calling up the rest of Menace team on his earpiece. Pyrrha looked over at Alexios, who motioned for her to follow him.

By the time she'd reached him, he'd gotten the rest of team JNPR to do the same. He seemed in a pretty good mood as he led them to the bunks, where Joseph was waiting with a box.

"Ah, shite, sir, you're just in time! Got all the stuff sorted out!"

"Excellent." Turning back to team JNPR, he motioned towards the box, which Joseph was starting to empty. "Don't want you to just be wearing armor and gear all day, so we got you some of the jumpsuits our off-duties wear. They're not the greatest things in the world, but you get used to them. Plus, they're full body, perfectly suited for the climate control systems on the Avenger, and it's an easy zip system. One in the front, one in the back."

Joseph lifted up one of the examples, an all black jumpsuit, and tossed it to Jaune. "Ye can change here if ya want, we don't care none."

"Yeah, we're going up to the bridge to do some cracking, then we'll be getting grub with Menace. Dunno if you guys wanna do something in particular."

"Actually," Pyrrha spoke up, turning to Jaune. She'd been meaning to broach this earlier, but it had only come up on the ride back due to, you know, all the stress surrounding recent events. "Jaune, we should probably get some sparring in. It might be a good idea to sharpen up, especially after today. I could feel a bit of rust when we were fighting."

"Top deck of the Avenger's perfect for a bit of open-air contact," Alexios suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good plan," Jaune agreed, before turning to Ren and Nora. "What about you guys?"

"I think I'm going to take a quick rest. I'm feeling a bit winded," Ren replied.

"I'm hungry!" Nora shouted. "Also, remember what Murphy said this morning about ice grenades? Wellllllllllllllllllllllllllll-"

"Nora... please don't freeze anything important."

Alexios smiled awkwardly, while Joseph just nodded.

"Aye, suppose the chief wouldn't mind showin' her how the cryos work, eh sir?"

"I kinda think Central would mind."

"Ah, come on, what's the harm!?"

Alexios pinched the bridge of his very prominent nose and groaned. "There's a lot of delicate systems on this ship that don't need to get frozen by an errant fucking grenade... whatever, Murphy's smart, he'll keep shit sane. Come on, Nora."

"Awwwwwwww yeah!"

With that, Nora bolted after the two soldiers, leaving just Ren, Pyrrha, and Jaune. Ren had already plopped down on the bed Nora had claimed the other night, and stretched himself out. "Good luck, you two."

* * *

The outer deck of the Avenger was an isolated place, most of the time. Even in the resistance havens, it was a semi-calm port in the storm, and with the Avenger having stayed at a secondary base in Kamatchka, it wasn't too bad of weather. A bit chilly, but not too severe.

Lawrence enjoyed the cool air, letting the breeze hit his head on and ruffle his hair a bit as he watched the cloudless sky. Sometimes looking on God's creation just put him at ease. Especially when it was quiet and isolated like Firebase Kama. The Russians here kept almost entirely to themselves, didn't bother XCOM unless they needed something, so the Avenger was quiet save for the usual hustle and bustle. Not quite quiet, but quieter than usual.

As such, he was surprised to hear the doors of the hangar bay opening, and even more surprised it wasn't a member of Menace coming to pester him. Nope, it was Jaune and Pyrrha. Had they been sent up here, or did they just find their way on their own?

He decided to just wait and see, sort of backing into the shade to watch.

"Okay, Jaune. You remember the techniques we last went over, right?" Pyrrha started, rolling her shoulders and stretching herself out in preparation for whatever they were about to do. He noticed now that their weapons were on their backs. Were they... planning something? Maybe sparring?

"Uh... kinda?"

"Okay then, what were they?"

"...um... footwork?"

"No, that was the session before. You were working on your parries and counter-offense, remember?"

"Oh, uh, right. I might need a refresher."

"Right, so..."

Lawrence didn't know much about fighting with melee weapons. When you trained with the Deltas, you learned how to fight with your fists, your combat knife, and a shovel—among other things—but never with something as anachronistic as a sword and shield. Hell, the XCOM Rangers using swords was an enigma to him. Still, from what it sounded like from their barroom conversation, these kids knew their way around a sword.

Well... not Jaune, but still.

The two began some experimental sword strokes, Pyrrha demonstrating a technique involving pushing outward against impact with the shield before making a thrust from behind it. Basic stuff, Lawrence knew nothing about swordplay, but he could see the purpose behind it. Simple stuff.

Jaune and Pyrrha started to pick up the pace a little bit, the blonde picking up what Pyrrha had just shown him admirably, although he evidently had some flaws in his technique that Pyrrha stopped to point out to him. Lawrence watched her demonstrate again, and Jaune repeats the action, a little bit better this time.

These two had... something. Lawrence wasn't sure what it was, but it wasn't the thing that Nora and Ren had. It was obvious the latter two were like siblings. These two had an odd relationship. Like, a teacher-student one, but also a relationship between peers. It was an odd dynamic, especially to have at their age. God, his kids were older than these two. Alex's kid was their age, and here they were teaching each other combat techniques. What the hell kinda hellscape WAS Remnant? Ezekiel didn't talk about it when he came back, and Lawrence didn't dare ask. It sounded bad enough just from the history lesson they'd given in the bar...

"You're doing well, Jaune, but you're overextending with your sword. You still need to keep your shield close in case your opponent attempts to stay on the offensive. Aggression is important, but you can't let it dominate your technique." Pyrrha demonstrated just that, performing a short thrust with her blade from behind her shield, while still covering her midsection.

"Right, right."

The two continued their little spar, eventually turning at an angle to where Lawrence was shocked they didn't see him. He coulda swore he locked eyes with Pyrrha when she pivoted on her foot parallel to him. The two pushed towards him, then Jaune pushed her back enough to put Pyrrha on the back foot and start her moving backward.

 _"Lawrence, I've got you on cams, what the hell are you doing up there?"_ came a sudden interruption from Adam over comms.

"Observation," Lawrence stated under his breath, trying not to draw attention to himself. "Just looking."

 _"Never took you for a peeping tom. We're briefing in 20."_

"Yeah, yeah."

 _"Not 'yeah, yeah', I need you down here!"_

"You know me. I'm geared up and ready to go. Keep your boxers straight, I'll be down there in a minute."

 _"Fuck's sake."_

With that, Lawrence went back to silent observation. For another good five minutes, he watched Jaune and Pyrrha sparring, trading blows that came just short of doing damage- he could tell they were holding back significantly and were uncomfortable doing so. Perhaps that Aura stuff made training more physical?- and practically dancing around each other in an attempt to disarm or unbalance the other. It was obvious from the start that Pyrrha was the more experienced of the two, but the longer the spar went on, the greater the gap in skill became. Pyrrha was shifting her sword into a sort of short spear, then back to a sword, then back again rapidly, while Jaune could only swing his shield into the path of strikes and make sloppy attacks with a sword that were easily batted aside.

Lawrence took a tentative, casual step out of the shadow, and into the light.

Finally, it looked like the spar was reaching its end. Jaune made a wide, lopping swing with his blade, which Pyrrha refused to duck or block, instead of meeting it with her own behind her back, before pushing out with her front-facing shield arm and knocking Jaune flat on his back, before shifting her weapon back to a lance and pointing it at his neck.

"Good effort, Jaune! You've gotten much better. It's obvious the week off had an effect on both of us though."

Now that was a fucking lie. No way that girl had any rust on her.

Pyrrha extended her free hand to her friend, and pulled him up pretty much effortlessly, before finally noticing that Lawrence was standing there. "Oh! Hello again, Lieutenant!"

"Afternoon, young lady, Jaune. Y'all seem to be keepin' busy."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, wincing when he realized he still had his sword in that hand and quickly withdrew. "Uh, yeah. We didn't hear you come up, sorry."

"That's cause y'all got here AFTER I did. Just was observing, is all. Our Rangers could learn a thing or two from you."

"Rangers?" Jaune repeated, confused.

"XCOM combat doctrine's got a bunch of different specialties and sub-specialties for operators-in-training. Rangers are our stealth-recon-skirmish guys, the ones with swords, axes, hammers, stuff like that. Roderick, Remi, and Declan, for example, you've met all them."

"Oh. Right. Rangers."

"I highly doubt that, Lieutenant. Although I'm no novice, I'm only a teenager. Most of your comrades have been fighting for years, from what I've gathered," Pyrrha retorted.

"Hand to hand combat has been out of fashion for hundreds of years on Earth, Pyrrha. We don't have Aura. A single bullet is enough to kill a man here," Lawrence explained. "Even with body armor and metal plate between you and the shooter, there are still bullets big enough to kill anyone. You don't get into CQC much anymore."

Pyrrha seemed surprised at this revelation. She probably was expecting tougher opposition. By Lawrence's estimation, if that "Aura" crap was working right, she could have killed everyone on the Avenger herself. "Then why do you still use melee weapons?"

"It's a lot harder to hear a sword, axe, or hammer hitting the back of someone's head than a gun."

"Yeah, makes sense," Jaune agreed.

"Like I said, though. Most of our guys don't have any experience with sword stuff. I think only Watanabe does, and that's because he was into that creative anachronism shit back in the world. Y'all should try running up on some of our guys, they could use the practice."

Pyrrha seemed to think about it, turning to Jaune. "Jaune, what do you think about that?"

"I mean... I dunno what we could teach you guys, but okay, I guess."

"Oh, buh-lieve me. You could teach us a lot."

* * *

No more than about 10 minutes later, and Ren woke. Bradford had said something about an operation earlier, but Ren didn't catch the details. His little power nap had been interrupted by the sound of Jack yelling and making a scene out in the hallway about... something or another. With a bit of eavesdropping, he caught them leaving. Then, he went back to sleep.

About two hours later, he woke up once more and noted the time on the clock. 1600 hours. That was pretty close to the time Bradford wanted to meet with them, he might as well start moving around. Attempting to get up, he noticed a weight around his waist and looked down to find Nora snuggled up to him, as she often seemed to do when they were sleeping in strange places. Adorable, and really flattering, but he kind of had things he needed to do.

Somehow extricating himself from Nora's vice grip for the umpteenth time in their many years of life together, he stretched himself out and turned to face Jerry, who had somehow snuck into the room unnoticed. He looked... well, terrible.

"Private Hall."

"Corporal, now, but you can just call me Jerry," he corrected Ren.

"Very well then. How are you feeling, Jerry?"

Jerry smirked, his eyes half-shut and ringed with black. He had a bandage wrapped around the upper portion of his head, stopping just short of his crown and even covering a good bit of hair, and going as low as just over his left eye. He wasn't wearing a jumpsuit like the other off-duties were- he instead seemed to only be wearing his duty pants and a t-shirt- and wrapped with bandaging and medical tape. "Docs say it's not as bad as it looks. Actually was only a minor concussion. I'm conscious, just a bit out of it. They want me resting and medicating for 5 days, and then another day for a physical."

"I'm glad your wounds aren't too severe."

"Me too, Ren, me too. I'm gonna sit down."

Ren stepped out of Jerry's way as he went for the bunkroom's couch, and finagled his way to a remote, turning on the television to some or another news station. He turned back to look at Ren and offered him a seat next to him.

"You're not gonna just stand there until 1700, right?"

"You caught that part?"

"I'm injured, not deaf. I can only assume they're gonna ask you about your feelings on the op. None of you got hurt, and you all did some crazy shit."

"I suppose we acquitted ourselves well," Ren agreed, hopping over the back of the couch and taking a seat. "But, we couldn't have done it without you."

"If you knew the area and had intel, you coulda. We just guided you along."

"The grenades were integral to Jaune's plans, and without Murphy, Jaune wouldn't have been able to fight off the last of the robots without resorting to melee combat, a dangerous proposition when our Aura is unstable. Without you, Roderick wouldn't have gotten medical assistance after he got injured, and without Roderick, you'd have been erased by that robot. We all played a part in the mission's success."

"That's a good way of looking at it, I guess. Thanks, kiddo."

Ren simply nodded, watching and listening to the news that made absolutely no sense to him out of context. Apparently, riots were being suppressed, the number of medical treatments was rising meteorically, and the 'Speaker' was to make a speech next 'Friday', whenever that was.

"Who is the Speaker?" Ren asked.

"Traitor jack- _jerk_ who's basically the voice of ADVENT. I'd love to stick a bullet in him, but I'm not sure even that would shut him up."

Ren raised an eyebrow and turned just slightly to look at Jerry out of the corner of his eye. "Why haven't you?"

"We don't have the reach to hit him directly. We've got three bases. This one, one in South America, and one back in Michigan, where we met you."

"Where are we now?"

"Kamatchka Peninsula, in Russia. Know that doesn't make much sense to you, but you did ask. "

That, indeed, told him very little. "Thank you, regardless."

"No prob."

Silence resumed for a little while as Jerry checked the clock again. Ren did the same-20 minutes had already passed.

"So, you guys... you're all teenagers. And yet you're out doing combat training, live fire missions against monsters, and stuff like that?" Jerry asked.

"Yes. It's part of the training. They can't dull the danger, lest we be caught unprepared when the time comes."

"That's... kinda sick, not gonna lie. Not the good sick either. Like... that sounds bad."

"It's a necessary step for our world."

"Kids don't have any business putting their lives on the line."

"Our world and yours have different standards, they work differently. We face dangers you do not and vice versa. I feel you would understand if you spent time on Remnant."

"The more I hear about it, the less I want to go. One of our guys says he went there by accident, through a warp like the one you walked through. What do you think of that?"

"It's possible. I would rather speak to him before I made a definitive judgement about it."

"I dunno if Zeke went with Menace or not, but when he gets back, feel free to ask. Apparently, he briefed Murphy and Adam. They seemed convinced, matched up with what you told us at the bar."

"We didn't tell you very much."

"Well, it matched up with what little you told us."

"Ah, I see. What is this man's name?"

"Ezekiel Collins. Goes by Zeke. Pink-Purple eyes, you can't miss him."

Ren found that particularly odd. From what he had observed, most of Earth's 'human' population had muted colors, eyes, hair, and skin. More earth tones and drabs. A man with pink eyes like his would probably stand out pretty clearly.

"Thank you, Jerry. I'll be sure to talk to him."

"No prob, kiddo."

Ren could hear Nora stirring behind them, and looked over his shoulder. Jerry did the same, smiling back at her.

"Morning!" he called out, a bit weakly. It was obvious the head injury had an adverse effect on him.

"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!" she called out. "My legs are sore. Carry me, my faithful steed."

"You can walk, Nora."

" _Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!_ " she groaned, but nevertheless got up. "What time did he say he need us for? Seventeen-thousand?"

"Seventeen-hundred," Jerry piped up. "38 minutes from now. GTS is probably a solid 5-minute walk from here, so I'd head out in 30. "

"Alright. I'm going to find Jaune and Pyrrha, we need to have a team meeting."

"What about, Ren?"

"Just to touch base, Nora. I'm pretty sure we're all a bit unsure of where to go from here."

"Hey! It's alright to be a bit wired considering the situation," Jerry called out from the couch, before throwing a thumbs up. "I'm always here if you need a shoulder or a hand. Don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Jerry!" Nora smiled wide and waved with both hands at the injured medic, who just waved back and turned back to the news.

Ren didn't dare say anything, but his Semblance seemed to be working perfectly fine. Perhaps Earth's environment only affected active Semblances, but that was beside the point. He could feel the emotions of those closest to him, physically and in the emotional sense. And every second he spent with Jerry felt like sitting on a landmine.

* * *

 **35 minutes later**

 **Guerrilla Tactics School**

Adam checked his watch impatiently, glass-blue eyes darting from his wrist to the rest of the assembled personnel. Murphy polished off the last few hits of an e-cigar (Cubans weren't allowed on the ship, didn't want to stink rooms up. That rule had pissed him off.), while Remi simply stared at the door, superiority oozing from his every pore. Adam knew he'd twisted Central's arm on this issue, with the help of Tygan and Shen (at least those two meant well by it). Wolf Mother stood off to the side, disinterested, while Dean just fooled around with some equipment while they waited. Zeke, meanwhile, stood beside Central, naught but tapping his foot.

Eventually, the kids filed in, obviously surprised to see all of these people waiting for them. Ren, in particular, lased in on Zeke, who nodded at him with a knowing smirk that did nothing to set Adam at ease. Pyrrha's eyes cut at Adam, but he paid it no mind.

"Thank you four for coming," Bradford began, turning to look at Stark, who stopped goofing off and walked up beside Zeke, adjusting his glasses and sweeping back his hair for good measure. Turning back to the kids, he continued. "We've been doing some deliberation, and everyone's said their peace quite a few times. We don't have a method to get you home but believe me, it's become our second most priority. We'll clue you in on the first after you answer a question. That aside, we've got something we need from you. We're giving you shelter, food, and protection from ADVENT, but this last operation showed us that you four are possibly the most dangerous human beings on this planet... if you're entirely human. We'd have lost two, probably more operators on that mission if you hadn't been there. Quite simply... we need your help. But we can't ask you to stay here. We can, however, ask this much, and you can refuse without any consequences. We need your help."

Adam stepped forward, picking up where Bradford left off, motioning for Stark to pull up the holoprojector in the GTS and pull down the back screen. The comms officer quickly did both, with a diagram popping up full of shit that Adam had only bothered to read for the purposes of his part in this speech. He'd insisted on participating, as a sort of conciliatory gesture.

"The Ayys are tough. Far tougher than we are. Better technology, far greater numbers, more public support, more financial backing, even on the physical front, they've got us mostly beat. As the major resistance faction on Earth, we need every equalizer we can get. Quite simply, you four are super-soldiers by our standards. Your technology is decades ahead of our own. Your powers are on par with that of our strongest psionic operator." He motioned to Zeke, who nodded specifically at Pyrrha.

The redhead was starting to look uncomfortable. Adam didn't much care. Okay, maybe he did a little bit, but it was necessary. "We need to study your technology. Looking at Jaune's shield already has given us an invaluable personal-defense tool that'll be hitting production tomorrow morning. We could do even more with your weapon, Pyrrha, or with blood samples to see if... well... what the physiological differences between us and you exactly are. But most importantly, we need you in the field. You saved lives today. You can save so many more."

"Simple fact is, we're fucked, kids," Ezekiel chimed in. "The X-Rays control every single city center," the projection shifted to show various images of red and black banners hanging from a range of internationally recognized landmarks, Big Ben to the Seattle Space Needle. "Every major metropolitan area," another group of pictures, this time enforcers with angular white or red armor marching down what should have been gridlocked city streets. "Most rural areas too," a small town hospital with odd tube structures spliced into its structure. "Hell, for all we know, they could have eyes on us right now. We are at risk every second of every day, and having to do things far beyond the pale of morality for the sake of surviving to see tomorrow, and making sure the rest of our people do. These aliens want the extermination of the human race. They may play nice on paper, but in practice, it's industrialized genocide," the images became a scrolling list of faces and names, each one marked with a large red 'MISSING' on bold letters. "People disappear every day, there's beatdowns and executions in broad daylight, and every day, it gets worse. We wouldn't be asking you to do this if there was any other way."

Tygan spoke up next. "You are well within your rights to say no to us. We understand this is an important decision to make, especially considering that you're likely more focused on returning home. But unlike Central Officer Bradford and Captain Jones, I will be frank- the survival of our race depends on XCOM's success, and right now, our success depends on keeping ahead in the arms race. We have something that ADVENT doesn't have."

"You," Murphy spoke up. "You are officially the four most important people on Earth. Grats. And now you're being asked to join a paramilitary rebellion. It's a hard choice. I'd respect the hell out of you whether you turned it down or signed on."

Now all four members of the group looked uncomfortable. Zeke started looking intently at Jaune, probably was gonna put the psi moves on him. Adam sternly rebuked him, if silently. This needed to be a decision they made themselves, without any outside interference.

"No pressure," Remi 'helpfully' contributed, smirking. "Actually, a lot of pressure-"

"Sergeant Duvalier."

"Alright, Central, alright."

Jaune looked at Pyrrha, then at Ren, then at Nora. Only Nora seemed unperturbed by the subject matter anymore, but she seemed unnerved by the mood.

"If you need time to think," Bradford offered, "We can give you some time."

"Do you mind if we step outside?" Jaune asked.

"Not at all. Take all the time that you need."

Adam put his hand to his ear comm. "Keep the halls in front of the GTS clear, we're doing sensitive work. Authorized eyes and ears only."

 _'Copy, lockin' it down.'_ Security replied.

With that, Adam motioned for them to exit, and the four did just that.

* * *

"So?" Jaune asked. "What do you think?"

"Jaune, while I feel horrible for these people, I..." Pyrrha started, looking a bit... nervous. Jaune never really saw her like this. At all. It was kind of worrying. "... I don't know. This organization's members seem to run the gamut from reasonable to semi-deranged, and I really, REALLY don't find the phrase 'things far beyond the pale of morality' to be very palatable."

"Yeah, that sounds kind of like, uh... you know, terrorism, and stuff," Nora agreed. "But, they also said that, like, people are dying. Lots of people. Not _our people_ , people, I know, but..."

"Can we say no and sleep at night knowing that we could have saved lives? I believe that's the question. Still, I share Pyrrha's concerns. Some members of this organization seem…" Ren hesitated for a moment before continuing."... less moral... than others. The feeling of this place is... conflicted. There are genuinely good people and others that are troubled to their very core. While some of this is just the nature of the world they live in... I'm not certain."

Jaune sighed. "Like they said, it's a temporary arrangement. Just until we find a way home. And maybe our technology can help them win! We can save lives AND go home."

"What about going into the field?"

"I wouldn't mind," Nora stated. "If it's to help people."

"We're going to be killing sentient beings, Nora," Pyrrha protested suddenly, sounding quite distressed. Ren immediately reached his hand out to his teammate, attempting to calm her. "I'm... sorry. It just feels wrong. Even if this regime they're speaking of is as evil as they say... we're not fighting Grimm."

"No, we're not. I don't... like the idea of killing things either. But a lot of people are going to die either way. I'm... not sure either, actually," Jaune admitted.

Ren nodded. "I would like time to deliberate on this myself, but I worry that every day we spend thinking will stretch our benefactor's patience."

"They said they'd respect our choice."

"Do you really think they'll appreciate a 'no' if their survival is at stake?" Ren asked. "If you were in their shoes, would you take no for an answer?"

Jaune stopped and tried to think. He didn't want to have to make a decision like this right now. Really, he wanted to go home. Kinda wished his Scroll had reception, Ozpin or Oobleck or heck, maybe even Port would probably have some good advice right now.

Still... saving lives sounded like too good of a thing to not do. Besides, they said it'd be their second priority. Surely that meant they'd put some real effort into it...

"Do you guys trust me?" Jaune asked, summoning up what courage he could gather and looking back at the door.

There was silence for a good ten or fifteen seconds. Jaune could tell that this was hard for everyone else, too, but... he had to give them some kind of answer.

Pyrrha answered first, stepping up next to Jaune and nodding.

"I trust you."

Nora grinned and stuck out a thumbs up. "Yeah, me too!"

Ren looked at his teammates, then at Jaune, and nodded. "Make the call."

* * *

Adam felt nervous.

This happened often, but right now, he felt very nervous. He could feel a single bead of sweat on his temple. He could see everyone moving out of the corners of his eyes. Murphy looked a bit downcast, while Central looked conflicted. Remi looked impatient, and above all, pissed, while Stark looked as unnerved as he did. Shen and Tygan simply made uncertain glances at one another, and Wolf Mother brooded...

Until the door opened, and the kids came back in. They looked pretty certain about whatever they were about to do.

"We'll do whatever we can to help you, under the condition that we get home as soon as possible. If you need more from us, we'll go home and get you help," Jaune stated. "But until then, we'll stick with you. Whatever you need."

Murphy let out an obviously long-held breath, while Remi's frown dissipated, and Stark made a little fist pump. Ezekiel outright grinned and nodded at the kids. Adam didn't know what to do, really, so he just did what came to mind first. He stepped forward, and stuck out his hand, much to the kids' surprise. Jaune, in particular, looked like Adam had just offered him a herring.

"I didn't stick my hand out for you to gawk at it, lad."

Jaune tentatively took the hand, and Adam gave it a firm shake.

"Thank you. We've got your six out there."

Jaune smiled a bit nervously, but he seemed relieved that Adam wasn't about to threaten or kick him, or something. Good. _Baby steps, Jones, baby steps._

"Well then, I'll give you the quick run down," Central spoke up, visibly loosening up, though his face was still stern as he looked at Stark. "Dean, show 'em."

"Got it, Central."

The screen changed to a bunch of images of an invaded Earth, plus a few Post-Unification stills as Central began his little speech. He hadn't rehearsed this one over a bottle of whiskey, so Adam was somewhat curious to see how this one went.

"You four don't know it," Bradford began, " but you stepped out of one fire into another. Instead of fighting the monsters and criminals that you face on Remnant, with the support of your Kingdom's governments, proper education, and professional-grade equipment, the Resistance is fighting the oppressive, invading alien regime with hand me downs from thirty-five to fifty years ago, using guerrilla warfare tactics and ingenuity to survive day-by-day. We're hunted every second of every minute of every hour of every day, we have few allies, fewer friends, and even fewer comrades. We have precious little resources, almost no reserve, and no Option B. We are at the precipice of destruction, and every day, ADVENT makes progress on a new initiative that we only know as 'The Avatar Project'. Data is scarce, but it's highly likely that this will be the final linchpin in their plan to assume complete dominance of Earth. Our world isn't under siege. It's been conquered. And we're trying to take it back."

Bradford turned towards the kids and pointed back at the screen. "This is the world we've lived in for the past 30 years. Subjugated by a force that sees us like cattle at best, slave labor at worst. And the whole world just silently accepts that this is the way it is and waits to see the end of days. Not us. We're going to fight. We're gonna lose a lot- we already have. Battles, people, homes. We've taken a beating on every front, and now, with the Commander back in action, we have possibly our only shot at saving what's left of Earth."

The door behind the kids opened, and Commander Cheng stepped through the door, spooking the kids a bit with her approach. She must have been monitoring them over cams.

"Commander, wasn't expecting you, but you're welcome. You mind doing the honors?" Central asked.

Grace just smiled, looking over the four kids. "Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren, welcome to the XCOM Initiative."


	14. Chapter 14

Welcome to XCOM.

Ezekiel wasn't sure how the kids were going to take that one. XCOM was a lot different back when he first joined up. It was colder. More professional. They'd had the world's backing, and the finances to show it. The best equipment, the brightest minds, and the strongest soldiers. Now XCOM was a ragtag bunch: some of them soldiers, some survivors, and some just plain sons of bitches that had no business claiming to be 'heroes'.

Sometimes Ezekiel felt as if he fit in all three of those categories. He was a freak, kinda like the kids. Not quite human. Not quite alien. He didn't feel like either, most of the time. He looked at the world, and what had become of it, with a sort of detachment. He'd left civilization to work with Vahlen a long time ago.

Adam probably needed him. So did Bradford, most likely. Everyone probably needed his help. But he wasn't in any position to help anyone. Ezekiel was afraid. When the world fell to pieces, he felt small. So he did what small things do. Hide in the rubble, in the cracks of the earth, in the little holes in the sand, and hope. Pray. Wish against all reality that the world would go back to normal without him. The days were long in those caves with Vahlen, and he often found himself wondering about his old comrades. But he never heard from any of them. He thought they were dead, and it was probably the same for them.

Remnant was... strange. He'd been there for what only felt like a few weeks, but as it turns out, according to what records they'd scrounged up, he'd been gone for 3 and a half months. Same with Vahlen, if she was still alive. He doubted it. He barely survived Remnant. One of those Grimm things came at him maybe an hour after he showed up. If he didn't have his psionic powers, he'd be dead. But at the same time, it felt nice. To be away from the aliens. Away from the world. To be a stranger in an unfamiliar land.

He wondered how the kids felt about it. He knew a little bit about Remnant from living there. Not much, but some. And he'd done some research. He knew life was rough there, especially for people like them. But Earth... Earth was different. You had friends on Remnant. Society as a whole wasn't your enemy. You had the proper training, the proper equipment, the proper backup.

It wasn't like that on Earth. Not anymore.

Seeing Adam again hurt him. Ezekiel would never tell a soul that, but it did. Adam used to be a proud man. Used to think that he was hot shit, didn't know that he only got as far as he did because of nepotism. He used to be able to back it up, too, especially when he got those genetic enhancements. Doctor Vahlen and Doctor Kirilov did a miracle on him. And yet now Adam seemed to be looking at shadows. His eyes never stayed in one place, he had rings round his eyes that had to have been there for years, and every time he spoke it sounded like he was inches away from a breakdown. The suave chipper Welshman had been gone for a long time, and Ezekiel didn't like the thing that replaced him.

Nobody did, it seemed. Not after what had happened while he was gone. He'd heard about it from Bradford.

Bradford was always a drinking man, but he'd become an alcoholic. Raymond had really died, and his daughter was being forced into going on field ops because they didn't have the proper minds and men for field tech, codebreaking, the like. They had to rely on defectors and disbarred doctors for research and medical care.

Welcome to XCOM, Team JNPR. Welcome, Ezekiel Collins, to what's left of it.

The kids didn't seem at all thrilled about the welcome. Even Nora, who seemed about as chipper as you could find 'em, looked a bit ill at ease. Commander Cheng's timely entrance seemed more to unnerve them than make them feel welcome. That always worked better in movies, where it just smash cut into someone either being given the grand tour, or gearing up for their first mission. They never really focused on the awkward in-betweens.

"...thanks," Ren replied rather eloquently, obviously having nothing more polite or really, anything else, to say.

"Well, now what?" Remi asked impatiently, cutting down the awkward silence before it could take hold.

"We start looking for a way to get them home," the Commander answered. "We've got nothing else to do right now - we can't move on those coordinates the Spokesman gave us. We'll have to wait until we get the necessary materials together before we head out west."

"The mag weapons?" Adam asked.

"Yup. Tygan's finishing up the concepts on the rest of the weapon line."

"I'll have the schematics on your desk by tomorrow morning, Shen," Tygan said. Lily smirked, and nodded her assent.

"Knew you were good for something, Tygan," she groused, with a lack of her usual animosity toward Tygan behind it.

"Don't thank me, thank my team."

"Speaking of teams," the Commander interrupted. "You four? You're dismissed." The Commander motioned for the kids to make their exit. "You were a huge help today, and we can't thank you enough for that. You earned some time off. Use it well."

The kids left, leaving the Commander with her team leads and Ezekiel, who still wasn't exactly sure why he'd been asked to come up here, although, judging by the fact that the Commander immediately looked at him, he had a feeling she would answer his questions soon enough.

"Colonel Collins." The Commander folded her arms behind her back, and let out a short sigh. A little bit of psionic prodding revealed she'd been thinking about this for most of the walk to the GTS, among other things. Really intrusive process, really, very traumatic if the subject resisted, but evidently Grace trusted him enough to leave her mental blocks down around him. Was that a mistake? Maybe. " I hate to keep you so busy while you're still finding your feet, but I need you to keep an eye on those kids. You officially know more about Remnant than everyone else on this boat combined. Until we get them a way home, I need you to keep them safe. If the Avenger goes down again, it's your responsibility to protect them. You're the strongest operator I've got, at least equivalent to a whole four-man team. If I can't get a team on them, I'm gonna need you."

"Alright, alright. Fine. They're under my wing until they get on home." Ezekiel didn't much like the responsibility of four lives on his shoulders, but the way Grace framed it left little room for negotiation.

"In the meantime, I've got something for the rest of ya. Stark, I sent you a file earlier - open it."

Dean complied, pulling up a new image on the backscreen. It was the globe, but with quite a few red hotspots, one of which was the location Menace Team was headed to for their next sortie.

"With the way the war is going, we're losing. Hard. We lost half of our original manpower before Operation Gatecrasher, and we can't afford to sit back and wait for volunteers. Besides the Reapers and the Skirmishers, there are Resistance factions all over the globe that we need to contact. Stark, enhance 'em as I go."

"Yes ma'am," the comms officer dutifully replied.

"Around the U.S., there are quite a few. Casey Snow runs the Militia down in what's left of the bayous." A face appeared on the screen near the southeastern US, of a man in obviously military clothing. "They have weapons and manpower that we desperately need, and they're close enough to home for us to make contact. Their guys are specialists in holding actions and strong-arming. They could be invaluable security for our home bases and outposts. Out in Europe, we've got reports of psionic warriors forming some kind of... Temple... in the Albanian countryside, away from prying eyes. You've all seen what Psi units are capable of. A whole army of them is an invaluable ally. Finally, we've got the Think Tank. The Think Tank's always moving, but their latest base is somewhere in Southeast Asia, not too far from our current location. These guys are some of the brightest minds outside of ADVENT's influence. That sort of brain power is invaluable. I've got people making moves to start contacting all three, but it may be a while. Keep your ears to the ground. If you make contact with any reps from any of these three groups..." The Commander smirked a little bit, turning her attention pointedly to Adam. "...it wouldn't kill to be kind."

Remi chuckled, drawing an aside glance from Grace that shut him right up. She wasn't smirking anymore.

"Sergeant Duvalier. You've been sloppy lately. I'm putting you and the rest of Assassin on standby. Maybe a field op will straighten you out."

Remi wasn't smiling anymore either, instead biting his lip far enough that his lip ring scraped his teeth. He just grunted his assent. Grace then turned her attention to Murphy, who looked back at her expectantly. He wasn't a man to waste time.

"You're dismissed as well, Captain MacAuley. Tell Corporal Hall to run by me later. I want to check on him."

"Yes, ma'am."

With that, Murphy left, as did Wolf Mother, who didn't really like anyone in the room besides Grace, and probably saw no reason to stick around. Now, it was just Stark, Shen, Tygan, himself, and Adam. Oh, and Bradford.

"Tygan, Shen, same to you. Get cracking, I want a status report by this time tomorrow."

Well, Stark, himself, and Adam, now. Shen and Tygan immediately hurried off to busy themselves, and now, all attention turned to Adam. He was obviously nervous, coiling up and taking the slightest step back. Grace didn't seem to notice it.

"You ready, Sergeant Jones? You're about to be on the clock."

"Yes, ma'am. Sensitive op, but we're good to go."

"Excellent. Look forward to hearing the good news. You're free to go."

Adam proceeded to slink past Grace with an undue urgency. An attempt at prodding his mind revealed little. Just nerves. Lots and lots of nerves.

"Commander," Ezekiel began, trying his best to broach this subject gently, for his sake, and that of his old friend. "Is Adam in command of Menace?"

"Yes he is, Zeke. Why?"

"... Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He's one of our most experienced field operators, has worked with Bradford and I for going on two decades now, collectively, and he's a damn fine soldier. How could I not have him in command?"

"So that's how you're explaining it to yourself? The mood swings? The violent outbursts? "

Grace recoiled, but her initial shock gave way to anger. He'd struck a nerve. "I really don't appreciate you trying to get into my head, Colonel. The aliens had their turn, and I'd much rather have my brain be private to _me_ from now on."

Ezekiel stepped back, holding his hands up. "I didn't do nothin' to your brain, ma'am. I'm just stating what I see and hear. I'm worried about him, too. The world changed him."

"The _world_ changed without _you_ in it, Colonel Collins. You're dismissed."

* * *

 **Meanwhile, on Remnant**

 **Beacon Academy**

While no one was happy about the outcome of their 'search', no one was less happy than Ruby Rose. It was sort of unsettling for Blake, to see Team RWBY's usual beacon of sunshine and happiness completely flagged like she was. She wasn't accepting any encouragement, either.

"Uncle Qrow would have told us if he'd seen something else, Ruby." Yang attempted to reassure her sister. "He's too drunk to keep secrets!"

"But there's nothing to work with, Yang! 'Giant, icy snake-man jumps through portal' doesn't bring us any closer to where our friends are." Blake could imagine that, were it anyone else, Ruby would be aggressively protesting, but right now, she just sounded defeated, lying on her bed spread eagle and staring at the ceiling.

"Well, think about it this way, Ruby. Have you ever seen any icy snake-men before?" Blake asked, attempting to be somewhat helpful in this situation. "Something that odd can't be a coincidence."

"It very well could be. Just because the two events CAN be connected doesn't mean they ARE connected," Weiss contributed from behind her textbook, drawing a glare from Yang.

"Not. Helping."

"What?" Weiss protested, throwing her hands up. "I'm telling the truth!"

"The truth is not helpful right now!" Yang shouted, slamming her fists into her hips.

"She's right. It's probably just a really weird coincidence," Ruby agreed, crestfallen.

"Ugh. I'm sure Jauney and the gang are alright! We just gotta keep looking. The sooner we find them, the sooner we can take them to pound town for making us worry!"

"Not my exact choice of words, but Yang's got the right idea," Blake agreed. "We can't give up now. There has to be something we're missing here. Qrow said it created a portal, right? Where did that portal lead?"

"I dunno. He didn't go in, and couldn't see."

Blake's ears flattened as she folded her arms and attempted to think of something. That was approximately the location where Team JNPR was last spotted, and if that thing was hanging out there and using portals to escape trouble, perhaps it had attempted to evade them, only to be pursued.

"It might not just be a coincidence, Weiss. Think about it. The snake-man thing only called on a portal when Qrow injured it, and when he saw it, it was already injured. Maybe Team JNPR ran into it and went into a portal after it when it attempted to escape?"

"Then how did it get back without them?"

"They might have lost track of it." Blake had another idea on what could have happened to their friends, but she wasn't about to say it. Stay positive.

"So what do we do, then?" Weiss asked.

"We wait for signs of it again. Check that area of the forest every day. When we see it, chase it into one of its portals, and find our friends," Ruby suggested. "It'll be hard, but we can probably pull it off."

"Actually, what if we got cameras out there? Just put 'em up at places where we found the blood trail and stuff. Animals, like, frequent the same areas, if I remember my biology right!" Yang contributed, seeming rather proud that she'd remembered something that she'd been forced to sit down and learn in some classroom.

"Yes, but where would we get those cameras?" Weiss asked.

Blake raised an eyebrow at her. Ruby turned to look at her with her trademarked Puppy Ruby Eyes, while Yang clasped her hands together in a praying pose and started to lower herself to a knee.

"...one of these days, I won't have the money to fund all three of your larks."

"You're NOT saying no!" Yang helpfully noticed.

* * *

A trip to a sporting outfitter and a few thousand lien later, Team RWBY was ready to do some sleuthing. The sun was starting to reach its evening descent, washing the woods in an orange-reddish light as the team's resident ray of roses and sunshine darted from tree to tree, looking for a determined path to the snake-man's retreat. Weiss looked to Blake expectantly, probably expecting, as all racists do, that because she was a Faunus, she had a better sense of smell than everyone else. While Weiss had gotten a lot better on the prejudice front, some habits died hard.

"No, I can't smell the blood," Blake half-groaned.

"Ah, I see. You can see it, though, right?"

"I'm not blind. It also helpfully killed all the grass in its path, so... that makes it easier."

"Alrighty! Cam's up!" shouted RWBY's resident blonde. Yang flashed a peace sign at the camera she just planted on the upper trunk of a tree, looking at it with a bit of consternation after a few seconds. "How do you know if it took a picture?"

"These are live security cameras. I set them to capture video, not photos," Weiss explained. "We'll be able to check them from our Scrolls at any time."

"Rad! That way we can just bolt out here when we see it!"

"Exactly. There's also no delay between the feed and the receiving device, so it's entirely in real time. Observe." Weiss took out her scroll, and held it out facing the approaching Yang, who proceeded to watch the camera picking up Ruby's mad dash in the treeline, happening at that exact moment. There really was no lag or feedback.

"Niiiiiiice. How many you got?"

Weiss checked the inside of the large satchel she brought with her, thumbing through it idly and mouthing the numbers to herself. "Seven. We should spread them out, cover as much ground as possible, stopping at the place where Qrow said it exited the portal. The blood trail should be the freshest there."

"Right, sounds good to me. Hand me a few, I'll set some more up!"

"I'll take a few as well," Blake offered.

Yang and Blake grabbed three each, while Ruby came back at the sound of conversation and grabbed a couple for herself. With Weiss carrying the rest, they went their separate ways, and started setting up. Blake found a nice, open clearing with a few flowers nearby. She doubted the monster was a nature-lover, but the clearing made sense as a basking spot, if he was a snake, so she put a camera on a tree next to the bush, angling it on a sufficiently thick, upward-pointing branch. The next one was a bit more well-covered, on a tree just outside of the monster's path, on the lower part of the trunk. She'd put the next one where Qrow stated he lost its trail, in case it decided to retrace it steps, or reemerged there.

The walk to the clearing was uneventful, but the clearing itself had an interesting new development. Namely, someone had beaten Blake to it. A man, by the look of it. Human, with ragged, tattered camouflage clothing, a helmet of some sort, a gas mask, and a large shotgun on his back, bedecked with cobbled-together Dust canisters and wires. A pistol on his lower back had received the same treatment, and he had a knife on his hip. He seemed to be examining the dried up blood on the dead grass. Was he following the same creature she was?

"Excuse me, sir?" she spoke up, slowly approaching the individual. Their head snapped to face Blake, and their hands went to their back, getting ready to draw that shotgun, but stopped short when Blake raised her hands. She moved them away from her hips- and by extension, Gambol Shroud- in the hopes that it would somehow de-escalate the situation.

"I've been tracking the creature that left that blood. I was going to set up a camera nearby."

"This is a restricted area," the man stated, his voice distorted by his mask. "Leave."

"... sir, Emerald Forest is considered public property. I believe-"

"Alright, civvie, I'm gonna say it again. Restricted area. Leave." Turning off to the side, he looked at some faraway thing. "Hey, Powell, we got a live one, help me out."

Blake's eyes narrowed, and her ears flattened back in anticipation. Something was up here- she wasn't sure what this stranger's game was, but he was awfully defensive. And apparently talking to people who weren't there.

"Who are you?"

"My name is not important, civvie, now get the fuck out of here. Final warning!"

With that, the man began to draw his shotgun off his back, and Blake took a step back, her hands dropping to her weapons.

"HANDS OFF THE WEAPONS!" the man shouted, swinging his shotgun and cocking the action, smoke belching from the bottom of the weapon as he did so. "ON THE GROUND!"

Blake's eyes widened as she pulled her weapons and attempted to shoot the gun out of his hands, only to have Gambol Shroud's main section shot out of her hands by a blast of smoke and shot. The man pumped the action of his shotgun and aimed for her head, forcing her to dodge out of the way lest she be blown out of the clearing. The blast threw flaming hot shrapnel mere inches away from her side.

"SMOKE OUT!" the man shouted, pulling a canister off his belt and pulling the pin before dropping it, firing another shot at Blake as smoke started to waft into the air from the canister. Some sort of smoke grenade, though it was acting rather slowly, compared to the examples Blake had seen in her time with the White Fang. The man was taking himself out of the advantage, though... without the smoke, he'd be able to see her movements. With all this smoke in the way…

Blake moved into the smoke, creating shadows of herself at short intervals to provide decoys, all while searching for-

Her opponent. The man had found one of the decoys and fired, watching it dissipate into puffs of smoke.

"CAPTAIN HAMILTON! POWELL! THEY'RE USING DECOYS! FAN OUT, FIND THE REAL TARGET!" the man shouted, turning his attention to another decoy and firing off another shot, this one glowing red hot- fire dust. That must be what the canisters were for. Dust injection. Crude, but still dangerous.

 _Who is this guy talking to? Is he military? Atlesian? Why is he here, using such damaged tech?_ _  
_

Blake went in for the takedown, pouncing on his lack of attentiveness to his left flank, but caught the buttstock of the man's shotgun for her trouble. He was fast. Not Ruby fast, but scarily fast.

"GOT YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!" he shouted, planting his boot firmly against Blake's neck and attempting to line up a shot on her head, but Blake managed to trip him up, using the sheath of Gambol Shroud to give him a resounding smack to the leg that...

Didn't do anything to his Aura?

The man doubled over onto a knee, crying out in a combination of rage and pain, and Blake realized that the man didn't have an Aura.

"Sir, I'm not your enemy, please stop resisting and let me help you-"

 **"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!"** **  
**

The man suddenly lunged at Blake, grabbing her around the neck with rakish hands and slamming her headfirst into the dirt, following up with a vicious headbutt that rocked her even through her Aura, and made a visible crack in the filter of his gas mask. It was hard for her to breathe in this thick smoke. Without that mask, he wouldn't be able to see or breathe either…

Grabbing her weapon, she slammed it as hard as she could into the side of the man's head, forcing him to loosen his grip ever so slightly to allow her to turn her head, seeking the other half of Gambol Shroud. The blade was in the dirt maybe a foot and a half away, just out of reach. Coiling her legs, she kicked out at the man's stomach, pushing him off her just enough to roll away for her blade, grabbing a firm hold of it just as the man gained his footing and started shouting again.

"You are one SLIPPERY MOTHERFUCKER, YOU KNOW THAT? FUCKING HAJJI BASTARD!"

 _What the heck is a Hajji?_ _  
_

Rising to a knee, Blake pointed her pistol at the man's head. He was back on his feet, drawing his pistol and knife simultaneously. "Please, stop! I don't want to hurt you!"

"LAWRENCE, TAKE THE DAMN SHOT!"

"There's no one else here but us!"

"... YOU KILLED THEM, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

... that did not go as she intended it. Standing at full height, she crossed her weapons in front of her as the strange man turned to face her, throwing off his helmet to reveal a tightly-compressed mane of curly black hair. Behind the mask, she could see something now, just barely. Icy blue eyes, wide open and bloodshot.

That look was familiar. It chilled her to the bone, and took her to a place she didn't want to be in the middle of a fight. _Focus, Blake. This man WILL kill you if he can._ _  
_

She wouldn't kill him. She'd hurt enough people. Maybe she could help this one, but it would require surgical precision.

 _Here's hoping._

The man roared in agony and anger at once, charging Blake with the intent of leveraging his size against her on the ground once more. Blake's shadow stood in front of him, swords at the ready, while the real Blake stood off in the smoke, waiting to take his mask until it was too late for him to react. When he dove in, Blake moved, leaping forward and striking out with her sword at the mask, hopefully just shallow enough a cut to take the mask, and nothing else. She felt enough give to tell that the mask was opened up, but as for the rest, she couldn't say.

Sliding to a halt, she noted the smoke starting to dissipate as the man clutched at his split mask, blood starting to run between his fingers. She'd cut deeper than she hoped, but he wouldn't die. Probably.

"Oh, you MOTHERFU-" the man started, before being interrupted by a flurry of red slamming into him at max speed. Or rather, his outstretched arm, with a rather loud _snap_. He'd seen Ruby coming, somehow. "GOTCH- **_AAAAGH_** _!_ "

The man dropped his pistol, grabbing at the bone jutting out from his elbow. Without Aura, stopping something moving as fast as Ruby was bound to cause severe injuries. Now that she had a good look at him, Blake was both horrified and appalled at the pitiful state the man was in. He had a thick, raggedy beard that looked to be encrusted with blood, and greying at the ends. His hair was equally ratty, and his eyes were even more red and damaged than they looked initially. He had huge, crudely-stitched gashes in his face that weren't healing properly, including one right by his left eye that was severely infected. How long had this poor soul been in these woods?

Ruby ground to a halt a few feet away from them, palming her cheek while turning her attention to Blake. "BLAKE! Are you okay!?"

"I GOT THIS BASTARD!" Yang shouted from behind Blake, Ember Celica audibly cocking as she came closer. If this man got hit with one of Yang's punches, the broken arm would cease to be a problem, because he'd have a hole in him the size of a bowling ball.

"Yang, wait!" Blake demanded, stepping into her path as she turned to face her, blocking the way to the disheveled stranger, who seemed more focused on his injuries than Blake's proximity to him. Yang was in full 'kill mode', her eyes burning red and her hair glowing hot as she stormed forward, intent on relieving Blake's unwilling protectorate of his head. "This man's obviously been lost for ages! He doesn't have any Aura! He needs medical attention!"

"He's about to need a morgue if he doesn't give it up right now!"

"Do it then!" the man suddenly shouted from behind Blake, drawing all three girls' attention. He was looking at Blake now, blood streaming from a cut across his face just below his right eye, stretching into his hairline. He appeared to be on the verge of tears, grasping at the bloody, exposed tissue that adorned the fracture in his arm.  
"Fucking kill me! I've been out in these fucking woods for so god damn long! Everything else is fucking trying to kill me! The fucking dogs! The fucking birds! The fucking bears! The fucking two-legged FREAKS! I can't find my squad, I can't find any food, I can't even find the son of a bitch I dragged here with me! Just put an end to this shit already! KILL ME! KILL ME!"

Yang's full bore march didn't stop until she finally could see around Blake at the full extent of the raving man, but when she did, she looked appalled. She lowered her fists ever so slightly as she took in the scene. "Normally, I'd make a joke about that, but, uh..." she muttered, her voice noticeably softening as her eyes returned to their normal lilac. "Shit."

"Sir. Please. I'm not going to hurt you anymore, if you just drop the knife and relax." Blake tentatively sheathed her own weapon and placed it on her hip, attempting to show her own willingness to speak with him. The man's grip on the knife tightened with every step she took, and he raised it in an effort to protect his face. For a man who wanted to die, he seemed terrified of getting hit.

"Blake, that's not a good idea!" Weiss stated from behind her, once again telling Blake something she already knew. She must have ran up behind her and Yang in the meantime. Blake ignored her, slowly approaching the injured man. He didn't react to her approach at all, not even dropping his weapon. Indeed, his eyes had shifted to his discarded shotgun, off a few feet away. Even if he dove for it, Blake could easily stop him with one thrust or pull of the trigger. She really, really didn't want it to come to that.

"Don't try it. Please," she pleaded. "I just want to help."

The man's gaze slowly turned from the gun, up to Blake. He didn't look angry anymore. He looked tired. No, _exhausted_. Like he'd just had all the wind taken out of him, not just physically, but emotionally. Almost like a husk.

"...okay. Okay."

The knife fell harmlessly out of his hand to the ground as he knelt down, clutching his arm with a grunt of pain. Blake immediately knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you know how much is broken?" She remembered when she broke her wrist as a child, and her mother treated her about the same way. Children understood kindness better than anger. Maybe that applied to... crazy people... too.

"Joint. Forearm. Maybe my wrist. Dunno. Can't feel my hand."

"We'll get you help. What's your name?"

"Frost."

"Alright, Mr. Frost. If you're willing to come with me, I know someone who can help you. You can tell us, and him, anything you want, and we can help you find your way home."

"...okay. Who?"

"You'll see. I just need you to trust me. Give me your hand." Blake realized her error, and quickly corrected herself. "Your good hand."

Frost hesitated for a while, but eventually complied, reaching over to Blake with his good arm. She took him by the wrist, and slowly stood up, gently pulling him to do the same. He was actually not that much taller than her, by her reckoning. He'd looked a lot more imposing with the mask. Frost looked down at her with those icy blue eyes, and Blake couldn't help but recoil when she noticed the scar over his left eye. It wasn't the same one, but-

Evidently, Frost noticed.

"Did I hurt anyone?" he asked.

"I'm fine!" Ruby contributed, as chipper as someone who'd just taken a clothesline to the mouth while traveling at approximately 90 miles an hour could be. "Mostl-l _oohh crap..._ " Her eyes drifted to Frost's condition, and she started to blanche. Considering that Ruby was already pretty pale, getting paler was an even bigger achievement, but, a shattered arm seemed to do it for her.

"No. I'm okay. Let's worry about you," Blake assured him.

* * *

"You told Miss Belladonna your name is Frost?" Ozpin asked, looking rather comfortable in the infirmary chair. Blake wasn't sure how he could do that, those things were hard as a rock. The rest of Team RWBY hadn't been asked to come, but she specifically had been TOLD to. Apparently Ozpin wanted a clear character witness.

"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Eric Frost, Delta Force, Green Element," he replied, still staring at the ceiling, like he had been ever since they put him in the infirmary bed. He only ever stopped to look at Blake, when she spoke to him. He seemed very grateful to her for talking him down, which made her feel... better, about the whole thing. It was nice, in spite of how they met. "Where am I, sir?"

"You were in the Emerald Forest, but now, you're at Beacon Academy, in the infirmary wing."

"Beacon Academy?"

"It's the premier Huntsman training school in Vale."

The confusion was evident on Eric's face. He was starting to seem a bit distressed, twitching just a bit."I dunno where that... this is, sir." His voice sounded equally shaky.

"I see. Where are you from, Lieutenant Frost?"

"Why?" Eric was visibly upset now, balling his good fist and looking around for something. Blake gripped the side of her own chair, trying to ignore the instinct to lunge over and pin him to the bed. The color of his eyes wasn't enough to judge him off of. It wasn't right, but at the same time... the crazed look in his eyes, eyes that were somehow so familiar to her despite being on a total stranger... she still hadn't gotten over it.

"Lieutenant Frost, I believe it would help you if you told me where you are from."

"... Los Angeles."

"I don't know where that is, Lieutenant. I've never heard of Los Angeles."

"It's a shitty place."

"That's very unfortunate to hear. I can't imagine you liked the Emerald Forest any better."

Eric chuckled a bit, visibly easing up as he turned to get a look at Ozpin. "No, sir. At least things weren't trying to kill me in LA."

"You were attacked by Grimm?"

"Is that what they're called? Yeah. Grimm. They've been chasing me for... god. I dunno. I used to go into this town, but eventually, the cops threw me out. I don't have any money this place accepts, so... had to... It's been... fuck..."

"Miss Belladonna was in the Emerald Forest following the trail of a creature that recently evaded us using some kind of portal. Would you know something about that?"

"Yeah. That's how I got here, a portal. The aliens use 'em for travel."

Blake's ears perked up, and her eyes widened, Even her superior hearing had a bit of trouble with that one. "Did you just say-"

"Yeah. Hard to believe, I know. Is this still... Earth?"

"No, Lieutenant Frost. This is Remnant," Ozpin explained, still the picture of patience. Blake was glad he'd been so quick to speak to the man, she figured the police wouldn't be very kind to a strange, scarred hermit with no history or identification. "Can you tell me what you were doing when you got here?"

"Okay." Eric took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and leaning back into his pillow. With the state he was in, he could probably pass for a dead man if he just stayed quiet. "I was on a field operation with the rest of Green Element. Captain Hamilton was in command. We were supposed to extract an HVT from a secure location, but unidentified hostiles beat us to it. Rescued a DEVGRU strike team on the way. Went through the location, took heavy casualties, but eventually linked up with a unit carrying the HVT, called themselves 'XCOM'. We started to beat our way to the extract point, but some big, ugly... thing in huge, red armor went to kill my CO. I couldn't kill it with conventional ordinance, but I saw a... portal thing behind it. I charged, and shoved him in, but I fell through with him. We tussled for a while, but then this big... bear thing came. It grabbed the thing I tackled in and killed it in a few seconds. I just... ran. Ended up hiding in a cave for a couple of nights, but the thing came back in the morning. Somehow managed to kill it. I've been in the woods ever since."

"I see. Lieutenant, where were you when all this happened, before you stepped through that portal?"

"That's classified information."

"I don't think I can reach where you're talking about without a portal, and I certainly have no desire to hurt you or anyone else. Please. I need to know as much as possible if I can help you."

Eric hesitated, and eventually spat out what Blake could only assume was a compromise, judged by how clipped and hesitant he was to say it. "Blue Ridge Mountains. In Pennsylvania."

"I still don't have much of an idea of where that could be, but it gives me a place to start looking for my missing students."

"Missing students?" Eric's eyes shot open, and he turned his head to look at Ozpin with such alacrity that Blake almost felt secondhand whiplash.

"Yes. Four of my students went into those same woods a few days ago, and have not returned. They were last seen in the area that you and my students were searching, where we had also seen a snake-like creature capable of creating portals. I believe that we may have found the means to help each other."

"Okay. So... what. You're gonna try to find that thing, get a portal open, and go look for your students?" Eric asked, eyes and voice filled with hope.

"And bring you home."

"Thank you, sir. If I can help in any way... what's your name, sir?"

"I am Ozpin, the headmaster of this school. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance under pleasant circumstances. I can't say the same for my student."

"Sorry, miss."

"Just Blake," she corrected him, giving him an attempt at a reassuring smile.

"Blake. Okay. Like I said, Mr. Ozpin, if there's any way I can help once I'm healed up... I've got military experience. I won't slow you down."

"I'll have one of my staff come and check on you soon, Mr. Frost. We'll talk again later, once you're back to health, and we'll see about helping you find your way home, You can worry about helping us later." Ozpin explained, finally rising from his seat. "Thank you for cooperating with us. I understand that being so far from home is quite frightening. If you would like, I can see about getting you a razor and a trim."

"... yeah, a razor would be nice... But a bath would be nicer."

"There's showers in the athletics department. I'll have my assistant guide you to them later."

"Thank you, sir."

"It's no trouble at all, Lieutenant. Please, get some rest. You've been through a harrowing ordeal, I know you must be exhausted. Miss Belladonna, you're free to return to your dorm. Enjoy the rest of your time off."

Blake stood up herself, nodding at the headmaster. "Thank you."

"Oh, and do tell me if the cameras catch anything. I'm as curious as you are," he stated on his way out the door, as casually as one would note the weather. How did he-

You know what? Blake wasn't going to question it. The sky is blue, the moon is shattered, the grass is green, and Ozpin knows everything. Simple, easy to understand. Turning her attention back to Eric, she offered another semi-smile.

"I hope you get well soon."

"Me too," he replied, attempting to return the gesture. With the scars on his jaw, forehead, and cheek, it looked rather horrifying, but that wasn't any fault of his. Really, he should be glad he survived with just that. Now finished in the infirmary, Blake headed back to Team RWBY's dorm, the walk uneventful save for a few other students milling back towards their dorms for the impending lights-out. When she arrived, the rest of her team were busying themselves with something or another. Weiss was doing some more notes for JNPR's eventual return, this time copying down some Dust Mechanics lecture Professor Goodwitch had given out, while Yang and Ruby goofed around with some game on their Scrolls. Ruby was obviously winning, and although she was still a little bit pale, she looked better.

"Stupid pay-to-win bullshi-" Yang grumbled, before being interrupted by Blake shutting the door behind her, "-hey, Blake! How's the nutjob doing?"

"He's... better. Apparently he came through a portal similar to the one the creature was using. There is something on the other side of them."

Ruby perked up from behind her game, visibly beaming. "That means JNPR is wherever he used to be! Did he say?"

"Some place called... Pen Silveinya?"

"Never heard of it," Weiss spoke up from behind her book and paper. "Where is that?"

"'Earth.' That appears to be what's on the other side of those portals," Blake explained. "Perhaps it's some other planet."

"Imagine that!" Yang exclaimed, before putting on her most bombastic documentary-slash-movie trailer voice. "LIFE! BEYOND THE STARS!"

Weiss groaned and shook her head, before returning to her work. There was a short silence before Ruby spoke again, this time a bit more softly.

"... what happened? I started to come after you when I heard the gunshots and the yelling, but I ran into something and I heard a really loud snapping noise and kinda went flying a little ways..." Ruby asked. It was obvious she was trying not to think about what she saw, which Blake understood. Blood and viscera wasn't a fun thing to look at, even if you were like Blake and had to a few times. Ruby was lucky not to have to look at such things until now, but everyone's luck runs out eventually.

"I saw him in the clearing where your uncle told us the creature escaped to. I tried to talk to him, but he kept calling me a civilian and telling me to leave the area. He pulled out a shotgun and started attacking me, but... he didn't have any Aura. Once I got over the initial surprise, it was pretty one-sided. When you came in, he noticed you out the corner of his eyes and tried to stop you with his arm. You were moving too fast and snapped all the bones in his lower left arm."

"Oh my gosh, that's horrible! Is he gonna be alright?"

"He will be. He's actually lucky you hit him, Ruby. If he hadn't been so severely injured, I think he might have continued fighting until it went too far."

"Oh, um... okay! Good! Glad I could... help..." Ruby still looked a bit downcast. She was too good-natured to take any pride in hurting anyone, let alone someone who obviously wasn't in their right mind.

"If it makes you feel better, Ruby, he's not at all upset. He's resting in the infirmary, and seems to be doing a lot better."

"That's good! Yeah." Ruby gave Blake an obviously fake smile that didn't really show any sort of ease about the situation but hell, she'd play along.

"So, what's on the agenda for the rest of the evening, then?" Weiss asked. "This will probably take me another hour, myself."

"I dunno. I'm just gonna bum around," Yang replied. "Got nothing better to do."

"You could study for Port's test tomorrow."

"He'll probably go off on some long story about 'the biggest Boarbatusk you ever saw!' and completely forget we have a test," Yang countered with a smirk. Even if Port didn't, Blake had a feeling Yang would find a way to bring it up just to get him talking.

"Touche, but still, you should take some responsibility."

"Yes, _mother_. You want me to do the laundry and clean the dishes, too?"

"I mean, if that's you offering to do our laundry..."

"Nope! No it's not. Don't even start."

Well, at least her team was acting normally. Gods know that the rest of Remnant didn't seem to be, lately.

"I think I'll just do some light reading and turn in early," Blake said, heading over to the bookshelf and browsing through her selection again. She'd read everything in it at least once, but it was nice to revisit the well sometimes. "Hopefully we find leads soon."

* * *

 **Back on Earth**

 **A half-day later**

"Menace team is on their way back, Central Officer! We lost the Skirmisher!" Stark reported from his terminal at the head of the Avenger's bridge.

"God DAMMIT!" Bradford shouted, slamming his fists into the desk hard enough to knock his whiskey off it. "What the HELL was that thing?"

"No idea, sir! I've never seen anything like it!"

"If the ayys are comin' up with shit like tha', we're _fucked_ , Lex..." Joseph noted, and Alexios couldn't agree more. ADVENT, they could handle. Sectoids, they could handle. The Lost, they could 'handle', if there weren't to many of them. But that... that _thing_ they'd just seen... that was far beyond what they could stop.

"Theé mou, how are we supposed to stop something like that?" Alexios wondered aloud, watching the footage again. Whatever it was had dodged a shot from Lawrence without even having line of sight on him, appeared out of seemingly thin air to slash Declan across the face, and kicked Adam hard enough to send him flying into a parked car and _crumple the cab_. If Adam wasn't gene-modded, that would probably have killed him. Then it did the whole vanishing trick again at the extraction point, grabbing the Skirmisher rep and dragging him off into some sort of pillar of light.

"I want any cross-references we can get on that thing. I want SOMETHING I can work with, here, people, and I want it NOW!" Bradford ordered, before storming off to find the Commander.

Alexios turned his attention to his old friend, grabbing a firm hold of the still-stunned Scotsman's shoulder. "We need to inform the rest of the team. This is bad."

Joseph collected himself, and nodded rapidly. "Aye. Aye, we need to tell 'em. This thing's too dangerous. We can't get caught off guard."

The two of them headed back for Hitman's quarters, finding everyone save for Jerry just fine, the medic still in the infirmary nursing his wounds. Roderick was in a brace, with his upper leg bandaged up and taped to allow him limited mobility, while Murphy was simply stretching out his own leg. Bridget sat on the couch, watching the television, but otherwise seemed unperturbed. Murphy noticed the door opening, and almost immediately caught onto the mood by looking at his men's faces.

"Got a feelin' you got some bad news, Lex," Murphy guessed, his eyes narrowing. He was obviously piecing together the worst-case scenario in his head, as he always did. This wasn't the worst case, but it was almost as bad.

"Yes, sir. Menace ran into a new hostile contact. Almost human, but more than human. Beat the shit out of 'em, and ran off with the Skirmisher representative."

"Dear _God_ ," Roderick exclaimed from his position on his bunk, grunting in pain as he attempted to shift himself around to sit and face Alexios. "How many casualties?"

"One captured, all members of Menace save for Jack WIA. At least, I haven't heard Jack say he was hit. He screams regardless."

"Fuck's sake, what the hell was strong enough to take on all four of 'em and run off with an HVT!?" asked a gobsmacked Bridget.

"Like I said. Some kind of... metahuman, or something, I don't know how else to explain it. Purple skin, really lithe, but muscular, wearing some kind of armor similar to ADVENT, had a katana-"

"Did you just say a fucking KATANA!?" Roderick went from 'surprised' to 'outright flabbergasted'.

"Yep, and the sheath was some kind of magnetic shotgun. I'm telling you what I saw. Had some specialized smoke grenades and a personal cloak, too. Plus a teleport beacon."

"Well, fuck me dead, then. We're gonna need a plan."

"Aye, if we wanna take this thing on in the field, we'll need to have a protocol in place. Without Jerry, though, we won't be able to medicate-"

"What about the kids?" Roderick asked.

"The hell I'll put the kids in the path of a superpowered alien samurai," Murphy spat, glaring at Roderick. "Completely off the table."

"They're melee combat specialists, or at least two of 'em are!"

"Then they can teach us how to use bloody swords so we can fight the thing, or we can use better guns and blow them to bloody pieces, but we're not putting them at that kind of risk!"

"Will we even know when that thing's coming? Every mission sounds like a risk now," Alexios countered. "They promised they'd help us, Captain. We can't tell them to sit down and shut up now, not without a good reason."

"Yeah. Everything's a bloody toss now. I don't know. I'll talk with Adam and Remi when Menace gets back. We'll need a good plan of action in case Central can't properly brief us on the situation. Where are the kids?"

"They went to grab eats with the rest of the off-duties. They got there as we were leaving," Roderick answered.

"Right. When they get here, give 'em time to sort themselves, then I'll call a huddle with everyone, including the tykes. We're gonna need a damn good plan if we're gonna pull this off without bodgin' it all to shit."

* * *

 **A/N:** Been forcing myself to write a bit more lately, and this came out of it. My betas, Sgt. Chrysalis and MellowYelloww are really responsible for my uptick in writing and activity, as well as the positive feedback I received in the past. I implore you, pls, give me any sort of feedback on what you've read, positive or constructive. It really helps keep me motivated, as much as I want to continue this story regardless of interest.


	15. Chapter 15

A couple of days had passed since Menace's return, and now that they'd recouped, Murphy was ready to start getting plans out on the table. In the days since he stated the need for a plan, Central had laid out his own. Mox's location had been tracked to a prison out in Texas, which they would need to get into somehow. However, they'd never pulled off a prison break before. They'd need to scout the place out, get intel, find weaknesses, and most importantly, ask some very important questions of some very important people. Things were going to get shady...

Menace Team stood around the door leaving Hitman's room, save for Sophie, who sat next to the still-laid out Jerry, who was listening with closed eyes. The man slept most of the time that he wasn't trying to do his normal duties through the pain of his injuries. Roderick, Alexios, Bridget, and Joseph all still sat or sprawled out on their bunks, making themselves somewhat comfortable in the tense atmosphere, while both Assassin and the kids took seats either on the floor or at the table in the center of the room, now void of its usual card set and drinks, replaced with a few papers- duty rosters, maps, grids, the like.

"So," Adam lead off, stalking around the room as he often did. The man couldn't keep still in tough situations, it was one of the many, MANY quirks that Murphy had learned to deal with as the Sergeant's- or was it Captain's? He'd heard the man got an impromptu promotion- tenure. "We've got two operations on the table before we hit the facility, according to Grace. We're sending a team of three to scope out the prison, get an eye on the defenses, guard rotations, layout, the like. Another three man team will be headed into the nearest city, San Antonio, to find an important ADVENT official with some _intimate_ knowledge of the goings on regarding our..." Adam paused, running his hand across the raw, red gauge down his jawline. It had gotten better externally, but you could tell that it was a blow to 'Invincible' Adam Jones to get hit at all. "... _new acquaintance_ ," he growled, bitterness dripping from every syllable.

"I'm still a little out of the loop here, guys," Jaune piped up, "can I get some kind of heads up on what's going on?"

"Last op we pulled was supposed to be arbitrating some negotiations between two other groups of anti-ADVENT resistance," Lawrence explained, leaning back against the wall. "Some bitch calling herself one of 'The Elder's Chosen' beat our asses black and blue, and nabbed one of those group's representatives. We gotta bust him out of prison, starting by casing out said prison and beating the unholy shit out of some poor SOB who backed the wrong horse. We've got semi-reliable intel on his going-abouts thanks to our newest operator- Thanks, Outrider."

A shadowy woman in a hooded trenchcoat nodded in the corner. Murphy didn't like her- she seemed even shadier in person than when Adam described her to him. For all his dishonest work, he preferred honest blokes.

"Anyhow," Lawrence continued, "we're gonna go corner his ass and get the answers we need. Once both teams get home, we hit the prison with a small infiltration team, then bolt like a motherfucker, and hope that 'Chosen' doesn't decide to come back for seconds."

"I hope she fuckin' does," Declan grumbled, visibly gritting his teeth. "I want a fuckin' rematch."

"You barely even got a hit in, D, what makes you think you can win this time?" Alexios asked, exasperated.

"I wasn't ready that time!"

"And you won't be ready this time," Ezekiel interrupted, before looking at Pyrrha. "But we will be. Dear Miss Nikos, forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you're something of a celebrity back home, aren't you?" His eyes flickered a little bit, and Murphy buckled, his fists instinctively clenching. He hated when Zeke started picking people's brains.

Pyrrha blanched, but, to her credit, she didn't lie. She nodded. "Yes. Somewhat."

"Two-time tournament champion, while you were only 14 tender years old! The youngest ever to claim that honor, and then lightning struck twice! Well, I believe your prowess with a sword might be able to help out our absolute shitshow of melee combatants."

"Hey, I do just fine, I don't need no help!" Declan protested.

"What kind of fucking idiot do you take me for, Cajun?" Remi asked, his brow furrowing as he stood up, shooting a look that could melt steel at the psiguy. Roderick, however, didn't seem at all opposed to the idea.

"I mean," Roddy said, shrugging his shoulders, "I'll be the first to admit that the only guy among us with any experience with a sword is Remi. Even Watanabe only picked it up after he joined in. Plus, fighting someone with more experience is way better training then us just wailing on each other like wacky inflatable tube-arm men."

Pyrrha still didn't say anything else, just looking extremely uncomfortable as Zeke continued staring her down. Murphy finally had enough.

"Oi, Zeke, quit with the freaky shit before I slug you in the jaw!" he shouted over the 'discussion', which was slowly degrading into a stare-down anyway. Zeke blinked, his eyes returning to a more neutral tone, followed by a genuinely unnerving smile from the old vet.

"Man, Oz, you spooked me! Was just having a bit of fun."

"I dinnae ken to yer idea of 'fun' very much, ser," Joseph stated, turning his attention to Pyrrha. "Ye know, we tol' ya ye can say no to anythin', and we meant-"

She cut him off. "I'll do it. You could use the help, right? It's the least I can do."

Murphy turned to look at the redhead, raising a hand. "This stops when you want it to. Just tell us." He could tell that, for some reason, she didn't like the idea. Maybe it was the fact that the suggestion was just literally forced into her brain.

"No, it's fine."

Adam turned to look at Zeke, who just shrugged, before turning back to Murphy. "So, now that we broached the last issue first... we need to talk about things that are actually important. The operations. I'm taking point on the VIP takedown."

"No, you're not," Alexios spoke up. "I am."

"Excuse _fucking_ me!?" Adam practically _roared_ before Zeke grabbed his shoulder. Adam looked like he was ready to jump across the room and rip a piece out of Lex, but for once, Zeke did something besides stand around, look creepy, and mindrape people.

"Easy, buddy! We're just concerned about your recent moods. Nothin' more."

Adam visibly balked, but his expression hardened a mere instant after. "This is my show," he insisted. "Unless you can give me a damn good reason to defer to you, I'm taking point."

"Because the VIP knows you, and you know the VIP, Jones," Alexios stated. Now it was Murphy's turn to get pissed. They'd talked about this, and Lex agreed that he'd let Murphy tackle that issue when it came up, but as always, he assumed that a doctorate meant that he was the smartest man in the room.

"All the more reason I should take point then. If it's someone who knows me, they won't fuck with me," Adam stated. "I'm taking point, and I'm taking the tykes with me. I don't-"

"Now hold the fuck on!" Remi spoke up, a little lilt to his voice as he sat down. "Could it be that the Invincible Adam Jones needs a CRUTCH?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Frenchie-" Adam hissed, raising a fist just as the Belgian interrupted him.

"Belgian." Normally, Remi would get pissed at the mistake, but he seemed to be having fun riling up Adam. Phil grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back into his seat, which seemed to put a quick end to his merriment. With that settled, Murphy turned to take a look at Adam.

"Adam, why do you want them around?"

"Because they have no names, and no faces, as far as ADVENT is concerned," Adam explained, slowly easing up. "I'm a wanted man. They're not. It's a good smokescreen, if they agree to it."

"So you're askin' em?" Murphy asked, before turning to look at JNPR. "You're alright with this idea? No killin', no fightin', just grabbin' a bloke and askin' him a few questions."

Jaune took a second to think, looking at the rest of his team for confirmation. Pyrrha still looked a bit shaken, as one would after getting jacked in the brain by a psionic, but she seemed to be back in the right place enough to make a call. They all nodded at him, which lead to Jaune turning to look at Murphy.

"Yeah. We'll help."

"Excellent. I'll be taking you and Pyrrha," Adam stated, not even letting Murphy speak up. "Murphy needs the others for something else."

"Adam, you- ugh. Aye. I do need to have you and Nora come along," Murphy explained as he turned his attention to Ren in specific. "Gotta scope out the prison. You're quiet, Ren, and Nora can make enough noise to stop anyone from following us, if you get what I mean."

"I don't, really," Ren replied.

"I mean that she can beat the piss out of anyone who comes at us."

"Ooooooooooooh! I can do THAT!" the ever-chipper Nora piped in, raising her hand. "I'm in!"

"Then I suppose it's the least I can do to help you. I'll come as well."

"Ace, mate. As for the rest of you lot," Murphy continued, turning around and looking around the room. "Hitman, we don't have any Rangers save for Rod. Lex, Jo, anything you can do to help the techs figure out how to get these on the road, you do it. You have my leave unless I need you for an op. Jerry, focus on getting well. Bridget, keep yourself busy with whatever it is you do when you're not on the bloody couch."

Bridget looked indignant, before rolling her eyes and looking off.

"Menace, you follow Adam on whatever he needs done. Assassin, I understand you're on op standby. Only thing I ask of you is to run whatever's happening with you lot by me. I wanna keep abreast of everyone's shit now that the 'Chosen' is runnin' around."

"Oui. We can do that," Phil agreed.

"Great. Appreciate you comin' by, all of ya. Now fuck off, I gotta do some plannin' and shit, and we're packed in like bleedin' sardines."

Assassin left without a word, while Menace loitered around a bit, waiting for them to get a ways off before following. Adam stopped at the door, and looked back at Murphy and the assembled.

"Thanks for fuckin' listening."

"Keep your cool, Adam. We're fine," Murphy said, throwing his fellow vet a small smile. He wasn't usually the smiling type, but he made exceptions when he thought it would put people at ease. "Just keep yourself together."

With that, he left, and Hitman's room was all but silent for a blessed few minutes. Jerry seemed to be drifting off to sleep again, Roderick was eyeballing one of his many movie posters that he had pinned up in one of the corner walls, Joseph and Alexios were giving each other The Look that they always gave each other, and Bridget...

Bridget was just pissed.

"Do you really gotta assassinate me like that every fucking time I'm in the room?" she asked, leaning over onto her knees and glaring at him, a curtain of blonde falling over her left eye thanks to the not-so-tender mercies of gravity.

"Your reactions make it worth it, plus, you really don't do anything," Roderick contributed.

"He's got a point," Jerry called out sleepily, raising a finger.

"I'm the best shot on this whole fucking boat, and you tell me I don't do ANYTHING?"

"Um..." Jaune attempted to interrupt, slowly rising from his chair.

"Yes, I'm telling you you don't do anything, Bridget, you sit in your bed and jack it unless there's an op that specifically requires you," Alexios explained, in his usual 'I'm being a polite asshole' tone.

"Well you always get fucking Lawrence! How come you don't give me something to do, huh, shitlord?" she asked.

"Because he knows how to shut the fuck up."

"Alright, Gigantor, I'm about six inches from being on sight with you-"

"Guys?" Jaune asked.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, BEANPOLE!?" Bridget shouted, turning her attention to Jaune, who audibly yelped before taking a step back. "Oh, shit, um... sorry!"

Jaune gave an offhand wave and a nervous smile, before saying what he'd intended to say. "Um, that guy. Zeke. With the purple eyes. What exactly did he... do?"

"What do you mean, what did he do?" Roderick asked.

"He was _inside_ my _HEAD_." Pyrrha stated, obviously quite upset about it, too.

"Yeah, he, um..." Jerry contributed again, turning over in bed to look at the others. "He... does that. To people. It's not really cool."

"Yeah, he was trying to get a better read on your history, probably. He did that to me when we first met. Wasn't very comfortable for me. You good, love?"

"I'm... fine. I just don't want him doing that again. Ever."

"I am ten-thousan' percent on board with tha' idea, lass," Joseph agreed. "Fucker's creepy. Somethin's wrong with those Psi types. If he's strong enough to get by the psionic blockers, then he's a bloody monster."

"Psionic blockers?" Jaune asked.

"A'right, I'll give ya a quickie, John-Boy. Back when the war started, there was a crew 'a lads with what we call 'psionic potential'," Joseph explained. "It's the whole reason the Ayys are on Earth in the firs' place, try'na tap into tha' potential for themselves. Humans have it as a rule, but cannae access it without specific trainin' or extremely strong genetics. Zeke's a rare case a' both, from what I read in his file. Lad's a bloody freak!" The Scotsman waved his arms out for emphasis before continuing. "Huge Psi potential plus trainin' from the original XCOM project. The psi inhibitors are designed to suppress latent psionics in the city centers an' such. Zeke? He causes the damn things to **backfire.** The man might be the single most powerful asset XCOM has now."

"You guys are almost at his level, from what it sounds like, but something's locked down your powers. I've got a hypothesis, but I'd need an op in the field to test it," Alexios added. "Maybe once this business with the prison break is done, we can take a look. In fact, I think Central agrees with me, Mac. You know what Assassin is on standby for, right?"

"No, gimme an ear."

"They're hitting the psionic network junction in Detroit. If they knock it down..."

"All th' inhibitors in th' area will shut down!" Joseph exclaimed. "Wait... yer not tellin' me ye think-"

"That the psionic inhibitors affect you four's 'Aura'. I absolutely believe that. There's not a single doubt in my mind," Alexios stated. "I know that them having powers brought by the 'soul' and Zeke having powers of the mind is no fuckin' coincidence. We're all humans here, after all."

"So once this 'psionic network' is shut down, you believe that our Auras will be restored to fully working order?" Ren asked.

"Yes. And once Assassin completes their operation, I'll know for sure. But until then, I need you four to be careful. I want to be proven right, and that requires all four of you to be alive by the time they're done. So no doing stupid shit, especially you two," Alexios continued, pointing at Jaune and Pyrrha. "You're stuck with Adam's crazy ass, which is not conducive to a long lifespan."

Murphy sighed. If only Lex, and everyone else, knew the half of it.

"We'll be fine. Pyrrha and I have had each other's backs since initiation. It's gonna take more than a little bit of crazy to keep us down," Jaune assured him, before looking to his partner. Pyrrha smiled back at him, but it was obvious she wasn't all into it. She really seemed hesitant about everything regarding this, which Murphy could respect, but... he felt like he had to ask.

"Pyrrha, are you sure you're alright with this? I can send Joseph in your stead, if you're uncomfortable with all this," he offered.

"Aye, I'm rip rarin' ta go, lass, just say the word!" Joseph agreed with a big, sunny smile. Murphy knew he'd act that way about it, he always did. Jo went out of his way to try and be the heart of Hitman.

"I'm... fine. I don't like this, is all," she admitted. "The whole military bent of it. But, it's necessary, I suppose. I trust my team, and I feel I can trust you, Captain. So long as Jaune is alright with this, I will be too."

It was obvious to him once again that Pyrrha and Jaune had a close, damn-near symbiotic relationship. In the field, she took to her own pretty well, but it seemed that off of it, she was more comfortable sliding into the position of second man, letting Jaune make the calls while only piping in when she had concerns. He respected that, every leader needed a strong number two, and Jaune, from what it seemed, could use all the help he could get. Hell, maybe field time would help him understand them better...

They were gonna be gone in a few months, tops. Why was he worried about understanding them? His job was to get them home, nothing else. Ah, well. He'd figure that out later. Right now, he had a job to plan out, and so did they.

Here's hoping it went for the better.

"Adam's probably gonna want you guys to saddle up soon. These ops are happening tonight," Murphy explained, trying his best to put them at ease. "Jaune, Pyrrha, talk to Adam about what you need to do, he'll want you to get some kind of disguises, since you're going into hostile turf. Ren, Nora, just wait for my call. Our part's easier."

"Sounds good to me." With that, Jaune helped Pyrrha to her feet, and started towards the door. "Guess we gotta go find him."

"Good luck, you two! Keep him out of trouble!" Murphy called after them, before turning back to the remaining duo. "Or try to, anyway," he muttered. "We got time. Do whatever you need to do to get ready. I'll let you know when we're rolling."

* * *

 **Elsewhere**

 **Remnant**

Eric Frost finally remembered how long he'd been gone from Earth. It had taken him a while, but he finally put it together.

Two and a half years. He'd been gone for two and a half years. At first, surviving was hard. Those 'Grimm' everywhere, along with not knowing where he was, nearly got him killed on several occasions. But, he survived on the wilderness. He did that for about four or five months before he found his way into the city. He bummed around there for about a year and a half before the police got tired of him stealing shit, digging through dumpsters and otherwise being a public nuisance, and back out to the woods he went for what felt like ages, but couldn't be more than three or four months. That's when the girl found him. Blake. That was her name. Blake Belladonna.

Shit, she had to be Lawrence's kids' age. Lawrence... he was probably still alive. No way that SOB was gonna get taken down by a few aliens. Hell, Eric only took that one for the team because Lawrence didn't see it coming.

 _What are their names, Eric? It's two girls and a boy. No, two boys and a girl. One's John, I know that... Johnny, Lawrence Junior, and Janice. No, no, no, the boy is Jason. Which boy? Jason, Johnny... or was it Larry and Jason... no, it wasn't Janice, it's Jean. Yeah. Larry, Jason, and Jean. Larry, Jason, Jean._

The operator looked into the small mirror above the infirmary's modest washbasin, observing his freshly-shaven face and cut hair. Goodwitch, at least, he thought that was her name, was nice enough to use some kind of... magical thing... to reset the bone in his arm AND give him a haircut. Other than the scars, he looked like he did two and a half years ago. Thin mustache, short hair... he looked like a soldier again. Professional. Too bad he didn't feel like one. Man, he nearly butchered a kid in cold blood.

He was losing it. Good god, he really was losing it. He'd seen guys lose it in the Sandbox, saw it quite a few times. Hell, Lawrence was like that when they first met, constantly dissociating from the bad shit he had to do in the Army, but Larry never went fucking nuts. _Eric_ went fucking nuts. Christ's sake...

Running a bit more hot water, Eric splashed his face and knocked off the last bits of hair clinging to his chin after that deep shave. He felt a lot better, even if it hurt to use his left arm. Not even magic could fix that one right away. They'd given him fresh clothes, too. Cargo pants, a white tee-shirt, and a jacket in case it got cold for him.

Looking at the door out of his infirmary room, he debated just... walking out. Glynda had told him earlier he'd been given a pardon for any crimes he committed while mentally incapacitated, under Ozpin's good name, and was given a temporary residence ID valid in the Academy City proper. He could leave whenever he wanted, theoretically, unless the door was locked. If he didn't feel like staying, he could find a job, just loiter around. Then again, going home sounded like a good idea. See if the world... survived. He had no doubt humanity lost the fight against the aliens. He just hoped there was something left to save of it.

Maybe a little walk would do him some good.

Still, it would be kinda... you know, suspicious, if he left without saying anything. He dug around the room for a pencil, and found the clipboard the nurse had been using to track his progress. He flipped over the first page, and started writing. Of course, being as he was a southpaw having to use his right hand, lest his arm feel like it was being ripped off... it wasn't the prettiest.

 _Ozpin_

 _Got tired of sitting in bed. Went outside. Will come back soon. Left my stuff as collateral._

 _Eric_

Leading with his good arm, and grabbing his jacket on the way out, Eric quietly pushed out of his room into the main wing of the infirmary, which was quite large compared to most school infirmaries he'd seen- whereas most had maybe two beds, this one had six separate rooms. There wasn't anyone at the front desk, so he just snuck right out. The halls were quiet- night out, so all the students were probably sleeping, if the dorms were on campus. Walking about for a little while, he found a large post near some sort of lobby, which seemed to have public transit times. Good to know. The next ride out was in...

 _Shit, I don't have a watch._

Well, no time like the present. He'd walk to the bus stop or whatever himself.

The walk from the front doors of the Academy, which somehow were still unlocked, to the bus stop was almost intolerably long. At least five minutes of walking, and by the time Eric got there, the bus was about to leave. Luckily, the driver noticed Eric trying to flag him down, and slowed down just long enough for him to hop on.

"Thanks," Eric rasped. _Rasped. God, what happened to my voice?_

"No problem. Go ahead and take any seat you'd like, sir."

Eric milled his way to the back of the mostly empty bus, sitting on the back row of benches, where it seemed one guy was taking a nap, and a woman with... well, apparently that was a gator tail... was checking her phone.

 _Remnant is fucking_ ** _weird_ **_._

Looking up at the clock on the front of the bus, he saw the time. 11:38. Nice and late. No one would likely notice he was gone if he made it back before first light. Then again, he didn't know when the sun came up here. Maybe he'd ask someone in town. It would seem weird, but hey, wouldn't be the first time he was a stranger in a strange land. And at least the people here weren't gonna pull guns on him. Probably. He didn't have a gun anymore, and his dominant arm was fucked. If someone did pull a gun on him, well, he'd be cooked. At least he'd be off Remnant, though. Maybe he'll just encourage someone to put a slug between his eyes, see if it works out.

Nah. Had to get home. Absolute priority.

The bus stopped for a moment, and a feminine voice called out over an intercom. **_"Historic Boardwalk and Riverside."_**

Eric considered disembarking, but changed his mind. As much as the idea of taking a walk along the river intrigued him, he'd do that another time. Leaning back into his seat, he turned his eyes from the clock to a map on the window next to him. They looked to be on some green route, that entered this city- also named Vale, very convenient- starting at the Historic Boardwalk and Riverside, then continued through the Residential District, crossed the river into the Commercial District near City Hall, then rolled all the way through to the Industrial District, ending at a junction that split into two- the orange line to the Old City and the green line that went to the Port.

The Commercial District sounded nice and busy. Good place to kill a few hours, even if he didn't have money to-

His jacket pocket vibrated. Huh.

Digging into the front breast pocket, he found what appeared to be some kind of phone, with a few new messages.

* * *

 ** _From: Ozpin, 7:00 AN_**

 **Slide the white bar at the bottom of the screen to unlock the device. Once that's done, you only need to press the button to use it.**

 ** _From: Blake Belladonna, 7:01 AN_**

 **Ozpin asked me to leave you my contact information if you had any questions about what happened in the Forest. I'll be busy with classwork, but don't hesitate to ask if you need something.  
**

 ** _From: Ruby Rose, 7:33 AN_**

 **Hope your arm is feeling better! ^_^**

 ** _From: Qrow Branwen, 10:00 AN_**

 **Don't lose the Scroll.**

 ** _From: Ozpin, 11: 32 AN_**

 **Enjoy your late night outing, Mr. Frost. I left a substantial amount of funds on a charge card for you. It's in the wallet in your front pocket.**

* * *

How the fuck did he-

"Man, this Ozpin guy is something else, huh..." Eric muttered, checking the front pocket of his jacket. Sure enough, in the left side, there was a small wallet, and upon closer inspection, it had both an ID and a credit card. The ID had no photo, but everything else was...

Completely wrong. His birthday was March 9th, 1980, not '22 Jodus Y46 AB', and they were a bit off calling him 34 (if he kept track of time right, add 3 years). About the only thing right they got about him was the name. Hard to fuck up 'Eric Frost.' His attention then shifted to the card, which simply had some strange logo on it that he didn't recognize. Twin axes. Must be some kind of company logo, or maybe a flag? Whatever, the man had money now, and that was what's important. He'd go get himself some real food, enjoy some time to think, then head back to Beacon without any trouble.

Suddenly, he noticed something at the front of the bus. A big, hulking mass of pink and green.

That son of a bitch had followed him here. Somehow, it was still FUCKING ALIVE.

Slowly, the muton stalked its way to the back of the bus, grabbing that big serrated blade it had jammed into his hip on his first day in this godforsaken place, a trail of orange blood oozing behind it all the way back. Eric looked for an exit, any kind of emergency exit, something that could get him off this damn bus RIGHT NOW, but he couldn't move. He felt frozen in place, hell, turning his neck caused him physical agony. He couldn't look away from the thing that had been chasing him all this-

"Hey, man, Hey! Hey! HEY!"

There was a sharp jolt to Eric's head, and he suddenly realized their wasn't a Muton. There was just a man looking at him, dressed in a black vest with matching slacks and a cyan dress shirt. Blonde, skinny, with slicked back hair and a thin beard. Probably a little younger than him, too, and big, bright blue eyes filled with worry. He had some kind of holster on his hip, although in the low light of the bus Eric couldn't tell what was in it.

"W-what? What?" Eric responded, blinking rapidly and attempting to collect himself. "What is it?"

"You look like shit, man, and I saw you just... staring at the front of the bus, shaking like a leaf. You okay?" The man had a deep, smooth voice. It reminded him of what you'd expect from a stereotypical therapist or something. It was a voice that encouraged you to trust the person behind it, whether they were trustworthy or not.

Eric didn't trust strangers.

"Fine. Just... zoned out for a minute," Eric replied, hardening his features and straightening himself out.

"People don't just zone out like that, especially people that look like you. Those cuts look fresh."

"Had an incident in the woods, I'm fine. I just wanted to get something to eat, and unwind."

"Well, tell you what. I don't know that you're in any shape to be alone, the way you just were acting. I work at a club not far from here. I can get you food, something to drink, and a place to take a seat and relax. How about that?"

Eric REALLY didn't trust this guy and his 'concern'. He'd seen plenty of 'concern' in the city from people who just looked at him and kept walking, hoping that he wouldn't pursue. But, at the same time, this guy actually acknowledged him, and was offering something. Better than the usual, at least. Maybe he was worth trusting JUST as far as the club. Besides, it's not like he was asking him to get wrecked, he was just offering a meal and drinks. So long as he kept his shit together, Eric might get something out of this.

"Fine. I'll come along," Eric agreed.

"Great. I'll tell my boss when we get in, he'll get you sorted." The man sat down next to him. "Moviy, by the way. Moviy Vodyanoy."

"Eric Frost."

"Eric. Eric, Eric, Eric. That's an odd one." Moviy rested a finger on his chin, slipping into a moment of deep thought. "Never heard it before. Frost, though, I've heard. Lived with a guy named Frost for a while. He was a _dick_. "

Eric wasn't sure why he needed to know that, but whatever.

"Buuuuuut! I digress. Believe it or not, the club is really close to the next stop, so you don't have much of a ride left. I'll introduce you to my boss, get you some drinks, and let you enjoy the ambiance. I won't be able to talk long, unfortunately- my shift starts early tonight."

"Thanks, Moviy."

"It's not a problem, man." Moviy placed a hand tentatively on Eric's shoulder. "I saw you when you got on, you looked lost as shit. You new around here?"

"Yeah. Kinda," Eric replied. A half-truth never hurt anyone.

"Lot of new people around here lately, it's freaky," Moviy complained, leaning back on his seat. "Most of 'em are the same- ugly bastards from Vacuo who came to bet on the fucking cockfight coming up."

"Cockfight?"

"Yeah, don't you know? The Vytal Tournament's coming up." The blonde's expression soured. "We get to watch a bunch of kids beat the shit out of each other instead of, you know... the Grimm they're supposed to be learning to protect us from. All for what? A fucking preening session about how great peace is? Gimme a break."

The rant caught Eric off guard, but he rolled with it. "Yeah. I agree. Sounds pretty pretentious."

"Right!? Everyone acts like this is some big, great achievement, and that we should be PROUD of ourselves for shit our ancestors did before we were even thought into existence," Moviy continued. "Really, someone should just drop a bomb on the whole fucking thing, put it to bed."

That was... just a little excessive. "Right."

Moviy perked up almost immediately, with disturbing speed, really. "All that shit aside, we should be close to our stop! Come on." Moviy stood up, waving. "Our stop, driver!" The bus started to slow, and confident that he could balance without his arm, Eric followed Moviy to the front of the bus. The 'club' was nowhere in sight. Really, it just looked like rustic, old buildings. As he stepped off the bus and followed his new 'friend', Eric couldn't help but feel concerned that he'd been led into some sort of trap.

"Where the fucking club?" he asked, his voice lowering in an attempt to be more threatening. This guy didn't know his arm was fucked, and even after bumming it for a few months, Eric would wager he still looked like a tough customer.

"You know you're only the fifteenth guy I've taken out who asked that? Relax. It's bigger on the inside. And prettier. Much, MUCH prettier. Come on."

Moviy motioned for Eric to follow, and leaned against the door as Eric walked up beside him. "Oh, BOYS!"

The slat on the door opened to reveal a pair of shiny red sunglasses. "Password."

"I'm the fucking DJ, dumbass! And the ruggedly handsome gentleman is with me!" Moviy replied, frowning his shoulder at the slat. "Don't make me call Junior."

The slat slammed shut, and the door swung open behind Moviy, causing him to stumble backwards a bit before collecting himself. "Shiiiiiet. Alright, I'm good, I'm good. Come on in, Eric! It's a little bit cool in here, since my shift doesn't start for another ten, but people are gonna be FLOODING in soon. I'm kind of a big deal, you see. Anyway, right, the bar. Come on, come on."

Eric followed Moviy inside the bar, noticing the wash of colored lights, which were very slowly shifting from red to grey as some relaxed, slow-paced drum-and-bass played in the background. Not at all his style, but he would deal with it for free drinks. The walk to the bar wasn't too eventful, just people loitering around, only turning and paying attention when Moviy passed by. People seemed to recognize him, or at least, some did. There was a man behind the bar, a huge bear of a brother with a thick beard, a fancy tie, and a glass in hand. He looked at Moviy out of the corner of his eyes.

"What did you promise this one, Mo?" he asked.

"Free drinks! And food. He kinda looks like he needs both."

"Fine, but since you're here early, you get to run the order on the food."

"Alright, alright," Moviy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll be back for you after my set, Eric! Hope you enjoy the show." With another pat on the shoulder, he walked around the bar, and opened a door behind the bigger man, which seemed to lead to the kitchen. Once he was gone, said big man slowly turned to look at Eric.

"Don't let him make you do anything you don't want to do, he puts the moves on just about anything with legs these days," he explained, before extending his hand to Eric, "Junior Xiong. I own the place."

"I didn't notice," Eric lied. He took the proffered hand with his good one, giving it a firm shake. "Eric Frost. Pleasure, Junior."

"You got ID?"

"Yeah. Hang on."

Digging into his pocket, he took out his wallet and passed over the ID to Junior, who immediately frowned.

"Not supposed to take these, Eric. Photo ID only." Despite this, Junior shrugged, and looked back down at Eric. "... but, I'll tell you what. I'd rather not hear Moviy bitch at me for running you off, and you look like you need a drink. Consider this a freebie."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. I don't run a charity here." Grabbing a small tablet from under the bar, he passed it over to Eric, who caught it with the edge of his hand and started looking over it. Looked like a menu. "Order what you want, I'll charge him for it. You got an idea of what you want to drink?"

"White Russian."

"White what?"

"Shit, forgot. Different place. Um... you know a Skip and Go Naked?"

"Yeah, I know that. Gimme a sec..." Junior took a second to think, leaning over the bar and glancing up at the ceiling pensively. "... beer, vodka, shot of gin, and lemonade?"

"I normally hear it with Sprite, but that works."

"I have no idea what Sprite is, but hell, if you're good with it." Junior grabbed a glass off the rack, and started milling about the bar, finding the ingredients for the drink. "So, what brings you to Vale?"

Eric thought for a moment, he needed a good alibi... or maybe he could stick to half-truths and lies of omission. "... got a little lost. Ended up here on complete accident."

"Yep, happens to a lot of people, believe it or not," Junior replied, pouring the beer and vodka for the drink before moving on to find the gin, "especially here recently. Lots of village folk and Vacuoans trying to find a better life, and end up at my bar regardless of whether they got it or not. You fit into either of those categories, Eric?"

"Nah. I'm just wandering."

"I like honest men, Eric. Are you really JUST wandering?"

Eric supposed their was no harm in telling a little bit of truth. "Trying to find my way home."

"What, Vale not treating you right?"

"Ran into a Grimm my first day in. Didn't leave a great impression."

"Shit, I haven't heard about any attacks. Where were you?"

"I was in the Emerald Forest... looking for something."

"Don't go running off into the forest alone, Eric, all kinds of crazy shit happens there."

 _Don't I know it,_ Eric thought, as Junior finished off the mix with a short pour of lemonade and a lemon wedge for show. "Skip and Go!" he called out, and with that, he slid it along the bar to Eric, who realized he'd have to catch it with his bad hand. Fuck. As the glass slid into his outstretched arm... it didn't hurt at all. This magic stuff really worked! With a shattered arm, moving his arm enough to catch the thing should have been a herculean effort.

"Thanks for the late warning." As he looked around the menu, he finally caught something that gave him a little bit of a pang in the gut. He hadn't had a good fried pickle in a long time.

"Am I reading that right? Fried pickles?"

"They go good with beer, from what I hear. Not a fan of 'em myself," Junior replied.

"I'll take some, then."

"Sounds good. Moviy! Fried pickles, make it a double!"

"Alright, alright, alriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!" came the reply from the kitchen. Junior rolled his eyes, and turned back to Eric. "So, where's home for you?"

Eric took a minute to think, before deciding deflection was the best option.

"You wouldn't know it. It's a shitty place."

"Oh, you'd be SHOCKED to hear what I know. Try me."

"I'll pass."

"Ah, come on, what's the harm? I am letting you freeload in my club, after all, looking like you went six rounds with an Ursa- oh wait, it sounds like you did." Junior smirked, leaning a bit further over the bar.

"Los Angeles," Eric replied, hoping that would satisfy him. Junior mulled it for a moment, and shrugged.

"You did warn me. Never heard of Los Angeles. Sounds like a nice place, by the name," Junior said, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me about it."

"Clogged up, full of assholes, and surrounded by tourists."

Junior chuckled, a low, grumbling sound, and shook his head. "You're right. Sounds shitty. Almost like Vale, come to think of it. Wh-" Junior stopped at the sound of the door opening, and rolled his eyes. "Speaking of assholes, don't mind this bitch."

Eric turned to look anyway, and noted a lithe, slender woman in heels sashaying her way over to the bar, giving Junior an offhand wave as her focus immediately shifted to Eric. She had eerie amber-colored eyes, eyes that made him very, VERY uncomfortable the moment they met his. She looked like she was sizing him up for something.

"Yet another stranger in your bar, Junior. Word travels fast, I suppose. Sir, you wouldn't happen to know an Ezekiel Collins, would you?" The woman asked, her eyes narrowing just a bit as she examined Eric like one would a slab of beef on the butcher's hook.

* * *

 _"Who the fuck are these guys..." Greg muttered, keeping his gun trained on one of the opposite number- a blonde with two handguns, one pointed at Lawrence, the other at Greg. The VIP was behind another man in bulky armor, with a head of curly brown hair and a surprisingly cheery disposition for a man who had a DMR aimed right between his eyes. Purple eyes. GLOWING purple eyes._

 _"We're XCOM, here for the same reason as you, I'd wager. What's your name, soldier?"_

 _"You first, 'XCOM'."_

 _"Captain Ezekiel Collins. Your turn."_

* * *

"Can't say I have, miss..." Eric replied, trailing off as he waited for an introduction.

The woman frowned at him and sat down next to him. "Your name?"

"Eric."

"Hm."

Eric felt a wave of dread wash over him. _Oh, Lord have mercy, I am in a WORLD of shit._

* * *

 **A/N: *resumes begging for feedback***

 **I'm glad to have finally found my grove again with posting. Thanks to my beta readers, the people who have been keeping up with my story here AND on AO3, I feel a lot better about myself, my story, and my work. My updates are going to be more frequent, and I'm going to try to shoot for, at the most, bi-weekly posting chapters. That means I intend to at least get SOMETHING out every two weeks.**


	16. Chapter 16

_Journal Entry, April 1st, 2035._

 _Acting Captain Adam Quincy Jones, Sharpshooter, Menace Team_

 _On March 28th, 2035, four random kids with superpowers came flying into my life. They've been here for the better half of a week, and I've been getting better at dealing with them. I still don't particularly get along with them, but that's more the gene mods falling apart._

 _Vahlen said once the deterioration started, I'd likely only have a year to live._

 _I'm not ready. I don't think I ever will be. She never specified the best and worst case scenarios, so I'm hoping for a miracle. Maybe Tygan finds a breakthrough, or maybe Vahlen comes swooping back in, or maybe the mods deteriorate and I just become a normal, if a tad mentally buggered, human being. I don't know. I just hope._

 _The mood swings are getting worse too. Murphy's trying to help me the best he can, but with the stress of all this new shite going on, seeing Zeke again, the pain from the deterioration... I'm lashing out at people more. I don't particularly like the looks I'm getting. Even the Commander's starting to have her doubts. I can tell. It's the way they all look at me. Especially the kids. They live on a fucking death planet and now they come here and practically get kidnapped by a crazy Englishman with orange streaks in his veins and a bad case of PTSD. I'd be scared of me too._ I'm _scared of me._

 _Anyhow. We've got an operation on the docket. Objective: Secure the VIP, get him talking about the Chosen and the prison. This man supposedly has a lead on the latter, but we're supposed to check on the former. Any intel we can get. Brought Jaune and Pyrrha along with me. Not sure how well that's gonna go. Neither of their weapons were easily concealable, so I just packed two extra handguns. Hopefully we don't get strip-searched. One is illegal, but explainable. Three?_

 _Yeah, I'm not about to get locked up after I've made it this far._

* * *

Adam swiped away the note function of his PDA, and switched over to one of the many info tabs he'd opened up. This one had three pictures, all of which had been taken just a few minutes ago on the Avenger. One of him, with his hair cut shorter and his beard shaven. One of Pyrrha, who'd been asked to take her hair down and put on a pair of glasses. Finally, one of Jaune, who they could only really doctor up by giving him a hat. Whatever, wasn't like either of the kids was known to ADVENT anyway. Adam was the important one.

"Alright," Adam started, looking up from the PDA at his two helpers on this little job. "Making sure you didn't fall and knock your heads before you got here- your names?"

"Nikki Pearce," Pyrrha replied.

"Jon Arc- ah, CRAP!"

"Oakley. Jon Oakley," Adam corrected, doing his best to keep his temper down. No reason to get angry over a simple mistake like that. Well, actually, there was plenty of reason, but being angry made him look like a wanker, and he preferred not being a wanker.

"Jon Oakley, got it," Jaune repeated.

"Good. The VIP is supposed to be in a club in the red-light area of San Antonio. We hit the place, find him, ask our questions, and leave. If things get nasty, we run to the extraction point and kill anything that tries to stop us." Adam opened the shortcoat he'd been given as part of his disguise, revealing the pistols on either side. "Keep close by. If it gets wild, these are for you two. Try not to kill yourselves with them."

Pyrrha frowned at him, while Jaune just acted like he wasn't fazed. The girl looked about as prettied up as someone in boring, solid grey slacks and a disgustingly drab dress shirt could be, and if she'd not let her hair down, Adam would have likely assumed her disguise was 'pencil-pushing tosspot'. Jaune, meanwhile, somehow managed to look even worse. Someone in ADVENT had evidently watched 'Back to The Future' and assumed that yes, that was _actually_ what humans dressed like; because Jaune was wearing one of those ridiculous puff vests over a black shirt and khakis. Adam couldn't help but feel a little bit terrified that in spite of how ridiculous Jaune looked, the boy seemed to be the only one at peace with it. That could only mean one thing- somehow, Remnant had an even WORSE fashion regimen.

Oh, wait, Pyrrha came to Earth wearing a literal corset and high heels. Yeah, Adam could see why Jaune wasn't fazed by fashion nightmares.

All Adam knew about the club was that it was somewhat 'exclusive', meaning that they'd likely be burnt if they stuck around too long. Jaune and Pyrrha looked a bit more on the metrosexual teenager side, so they wouldn't have much trouble, but Adam was already going to be drawing enough attention as a grizzled middle-aged man accompanying two children that look very little like him. In particular, he doubted he was anything resembling 'chic', what with a six inch gash down his right cheek and pulsing fluorescent veins.

"Anything you want to bring along that doesn't compromise the op, grab it," he ordered. "We're rolling out as soon as you're ready."

"I think we're ready, Adam," Pyrrha replied.

"Yeah," Jaune agreed. "I think we're good."

"Bang on. Let's ready up, we've got a job to do."

The Skyranger had taken them to a dropoff point where a Resistance contact was waiting with transport to take them into town proper. The ride wasn't too long, about thirty minutes, and they had some dummy accounts to funnel funds through, in case they actually, you know, WANTED something from the club. Not that it was a good idea to be drinking on the job, but the contact probably didn't know that's what the deal was, so a bit of 'discretionary funding' was standard procedure.

Adam knew the upper-crust areas of ADVENT's city-centers pretty well, considering that back when the war first ended, he frequented such places. They usually had the best lounges and the best drinks; you could say many things about him, but Adam Jones was, above almost all other things, a lounge lizard. This club, _Unity_ , seemed no different from any other 'en vogue' establishment he'd been forced into. Gold color scheme, lots and lots of fuck-off ugly halogen lights, same as most of the clubs and lounges in the city centers. The outer walls were a solid black, which made it stand out rather vividly from the drab grays and whites of the surrounding buildings. It was smaller than most, for sure, but then again, San Antonio was one of the smaller city centers. New York, Chicago, San Diego - hell, even Houston was bigger.

Adam was the first out of the car, grabbing the door for Pyrrha while Jaune exited on the other side. Lucky for him traffic wasn't too bad - drivers in the city centers only stopped when a bomb went off (and Adam would know, considering he was usually the one setting said bombs off). The club didn't have the most intense security, which was unusual. Usually, there were at least 3 ADVENT plus the VIP's entourage, regardless of where the VIP was staying. He didn't even see any ADVENT.

 _My name is Quinn Oakley,_ he reminded himself. _Jon is my son._

The bouncer was quick to stop him when he approached the door.

"Name?" he asked. The bouncer was a big, brutish man with a thick, ginger beard, a matching ponytail, and hazel eyes that nearly looked yellow. Overall, not the kind of guy you'd normally want to tangle with, but Adam could probably take him.

"Quinn Oakley."

The man raised an eyebrow, and looked over his shoulder at Jaune and Pyrrha. "Wasn't told you'd be bringing company, Mr. Oakley," he stated. "I'd have reserved spots for you."

Wait, _the bouncer_ was the fucking contact? What in the goddamn-

Adam mentally collected himself but luckily Pyrrha already seemed to be on the ball.

"Sorry sir, my father-in-law wanted to take us out on the town to celebrate our engagement... I figured he'd have made reservations for all three of us, but I guess mistakes were made." She gave probably the best 'Catholic School Chorus Girl' look that Adam had ever seen (and he spoke from prior experience), and her voice took on a somewhat simpering tone. "I hope we haven't inconvenienced you."

The bouncer shook his head and gave the slightest smirk. Evidently, that worked for him. "Not at all, miss. Congratulations. Head right on in."

Adam couldn't help but be a little bit impressed himself. The door closed behind them, leaving them alone with the dimly-lit club-goers and the dull thumping of the rather monotonous, uninspired music, and Adam's attention turned to Pyrrha.

"Remind me to take you out more often. Where'd you learn to lie through your teeth like that?" he asked. Truth be told, the alibi for Pyrrha was supposed to be 'she happened to show up at the club the same time we did, no connection whatsoever,' but Pyrrha'd taken the 'Oakley' ball, and ran with it.

"When you're the center of attention, you learn to be very good at acting under pressure," she explained, with a sudden tonal shift that implied that there would be no further questions.

Well, she wouldn't catch him asking any.

"Alright, now for the plan," Adam began, turning to both of his charges one after the other. "Remember, if we get burnt, we break for it immediately with the VIP in tow. No stops, no brakes. I'm going to go find him, you two keep close by, but keep your ears open. If I tell you we're breaking and running, don't wait for me- head for the door. I'll meet you outside." Placing his hand to his ear, he turned on his comms. "Hit the green button to the right of the power button twice, it'll put you on my frequency."

Both Jaune and Pyrrha did so, and Adam got the slightest bit of feedback from the connection. Good, no technical errors to worry about.

"Right then." Adam buttoned his coat, making sure the pistols were completely concealed. The holster on the third piece scraped his leg uncomfortably inside his pants, but such was the cost of concealing a fucking revolver. "Don't do anything stupid, don't get drunk, and above all, blend in. Understood?"

"Got it," Jaune replied. Pyrrha nodded her agreement as well. While Adam had his doubts this would go smoothly, it was time to go to work.

"Right then. I'm gonna find our VIP. You two do what you need to do."

With that, the trio separated. Jaune and Pyrrha went to the floor, while Adam started searching for the VIP. The description was rather lackluster: African, early 60s, frequents the top floor overlook, the one with a rather nice view of the city skyline.

 _"Hey, Menace Lead, this is Gatekeeper,"_ came a sudden voice over the comms. The voice alone confirmed that Adam's suspicions were correct- the bouncer was indeed his inside man.

"Hey. What's going on?" Adam replied, trying to keep it casual and inconspicuous, in case someone nearby was listening.

 _"VIP's inside, last I saw he was on the top floor, in the executive suites. You have a pass, but be advised, the VIP doesn't know about it, and will burn you if you let him walk before you get your intel."_

"He's not going to be _walking_ anywhere, Gatekeeper. I'll keep you posted, you're going to need to bug out once this gets nasty. If it does, that is."

 _"Don't worry, I got my ears open."_

With that, Adam had an objective. Executive suites. Easy, easy, easy. He'd found his way into much tougher spots before, this would be no different. Weaving through the crowds was easy, and the walk up the stairs was no chore either, save for a few unrulies who were easily brought aside with a push here and a shove there. That was the only real difficulty with this walk, the rather large amount of stairs, and how packed they were. Four flights total, every step at least four-and-a-half meters wide, and at least twenty of them per flight. He wasn't expecting to get any cardio during this op, but it appeared that today was just going to be chock full of surprises.

The top floor came rather quickly, and Adam now turned his attention to the executive suite entrance. Two bouncers, one of whom was looking right at him and holding a PDA. This guy wasn't on his side, but he probably wouldn't deny Adam. Probably. And if he did, well, the revolver did have a suppressor option.

"I have a suite, under the name 'Oakley', he stated, looking at the bouncer, who immediately checked his PDA, a look of consternation on his face. He didn't seem pleased, and was only slightly mollified by the presence of Adam's- or rather, Quinn's- name on the list.

"Alright, it checks out, Mr. Oakley. You're in Suite 7."

"Alright then. Thanks, bruv."

The bouncer grunted his assent, and the other pushed open the doors. Adam stepped inside, the dim lighting of the club itself being replaced by a slightly brighter pale yellow pallor. Like the sun, if the sun was sick and about to drop dead from the sky. Suite 7 was right in front of him, and all too close to the door. Within hearing distance, for certain.

Adam walked up to the door, swiped his PDA over the door, opened it, and then slammed it shut. That would keep them off his case, all things being ideal. With that done, he now had a new problem to tackle- he had no name for the VIP, and no idea which suite he was in. It would be sort of suspicious to go knocking on all the doors. He put his hand up to his earpiece, and called the contact again.

"Gatekeeper, this is Menace. Do you have an ID on the VIP?"

 _"No name, just his appearance."_

"Do you have his suite number?"

 _"No. Check the registry panel by the door, it shows who's in each room."_

Adam looked at the door of his own room and noticed that a small holoprojector had popped out from the wall, presenting the suite number, the occupancy status (which, to Adam's frustration, showed that he wasn't in the room), and his alias. That might help him locate his man. Sure, he didn't have a name, but he did have one thing. The man was African. Unless he had an Americanized name, he was going to stick out like a sore thumb. It was almost impossible for two Africans to be in the executive suite of the exact same club at the exact same time, especially in a place like San Antonio.

Time to start looking.

Suite 6 was the next one down, had two occupants, and was owned by a Jonathan Rogers. Not likely his man. Suites 5 and 4 were empty. Suite 3 had an Adam Jones. When the novelty of the coincidence wore off Adam continued to Suite 2, which had an astonishing eight occupants in it, was loud enough to wake the dead, and was owned by a Martin Papdakis. That didn't sound African in the least. This left only Suite 1, which certainly stood out as a possible winner. There was a small hallway ahead before one got to Suite 1, and as Adam passed it, he noticed that it had a rather stunning view of the older part of town, including the place where the Alamo used to be. If the VIP liked a pretty view, this would be the place to find it.

Suite 1 was just ahead, and Adam went to check the registry panel. Instead of finding some random name, however, he ended up face to face with a ghost of his past.

 _Iwabe Osajambo. Occupants: 1. Status: Occupied_

Iwabe. Fucking. Osajambo. There was no way in hell that Thunderbolt was the VIP, but... if he was alive, Adam had to know for sure.

He knocked on the door with one hand, while grabbing his revolver with the other. "Iwabe. It's me," he said, carefully. If he recognized his voice, then maybe-

The door swung open to a frantic-looking shadow of the Iwabe Adam used to know, weathered by age, with grey stubble and a completely barren head. This Iwabe was wearing a suit, with a bright yellow tie and a badge on his shirt that bore the ADVENT symbol. That detail alone would normally send Adam into a frothing rage, it only just registered in the back of his mind. Iwabe seemed to miss the fact that Adam was grabbing a gun, and instead seemed intent on looking into Adam's eyes with utter disbelief. They stayed like this for about a minute, just looking at each other in mutual shock, trying to pick their brains and figure out what the best thing to say was.

"Mr. Invincible didn't die after all, eh?", Iwabe finally said, breaking the silence for both of them.

"Would be a shite nickname if I didn't live up to my hype," Adam replied. "You're-"

"Yes, I know. It looks bad. Come, sit, we need to talk."

Adam's hand remained on his gun. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?"

"You don't, unfortunately. You'll just have to take it on faith." With that, Iwabe extended his hand. "Will you trust me?"

Although Adam's hand didn't move an inch away from his firearm, his free arm took the proffered hand with a tentative shake. Not that it made this any easier, but fuck if it wasn't the polite thing to do, shaking your friend's hand after a 30 year absence.

"No," Adam answered. "So you'd better get to talking, and fast."

* * *

Pyrrha was never the biggest fan of club atmospheres.

Having practically come of age in the spotlight, she often found herself doing everything in her power to cling to a fleeting illusion of privacy, and considering that she was often shadowed by paparazzi every time she left her home, she never went to any club or lounge unless it was for an official function related to sponsors, tournaments, award ceremonies, or the like. She'd much rather stay at home with her family, or read a book, or walk around the block, really just do literally anything else than go to a club. And now, here she was, with no choice but to loiter around in one until Adam either finished his business or lost his mind and shot up the place. Although Pyrrha was no expert on Adam, or really anyone in XCOM, she found the latter outcome to be much more plausible considering recent events. The man's moods came and went as if they were tethered to a pendulum.

Still, the club wasn't all that bad. For one, nobody knew who she was here, which was a welcome change from the norm. There wouldn't be any paparazzi or stalkers following her around. She had Jaune with her, which was… nice?

Well, as nice as it could be, anyway. While she was more uncertain about aiding a group that, for all their righteous cause, apparently regularly performed acts of terrorism, Jaune seemed only able to keep up a front of strong leadership when XCOM had their eyes on him. Times like now, he seemed nervous, like he wasn't sure what he was doing, if he was doing it right, or if he should even be doing it at all. Although she was doing all she could to help him, Pyrrha couldn't help but feel that it wasn't enough.

If only he knew how much she cared about him. Maybe that might help, although she wasn't exactly sure of that. She assumed it would, at the very least.

"I guess you're having fun," Jaune spoke up, barely audible over the din of the crowd and the music around them. It was obvious that 'fun' was the farthest thing from his mind right now just by the way he said it.

"Oh, absolutely not," she replied with a smile, a fruitless attempt to ease his obviously frayed nerves. "This isn't really my 'thing'."

"Well, what is your 'thing?'" he asked.

"Oh, you know…" Pyrrha shrugged, trying to cover up her nerves with a smirk. She highly doubted it was working- Jaune just seemed to have a way of putting her off her normal poise. "Privacy."

That got a slight chuckle out of Jaune, and Pyrrha chuckled along with him, even though she didn't really think it was funny. Jaune leaned back against the wall behind him, bathed in the golden light from the club's rather gaudy visual ambiance. With his already strikingly blonde hair, it almost looked like he was made of gold.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I'd imagine that privacy's refreshing when you're… you know, famous."

"Oh, you have no idea. I couldn't walk a single block from my house without someone stopping and asking me 'excuse me, are you Pyrrha Nikos?'" Pyrrha leaned back against the wall next to him, watching the mingling crowd in front of them with a detached disinterest. "It got to a point where I just never left home on my own unless I had obligations."

"I imagine that wasn't any fun."

"Absolutely not. I'm glad that period is behind me. People still know who I am in Vale, but it seems they're content to leave me alone."

Jaune didn't have a reply to that, seeming to focus on something a bit further off, something outside of the club, maybe even outside of this city.

"Are you alright, Jaune?" she asked.

"Worried. Just worried," he replied.

"I am, too. We'll be okay, though, I know that much."

"Yeah." Jaune didn't sound too convinced. In an uncharacteristic display of bravery, stupidity, or a little bit of both, Pyrrha's hand unconsciously drifted over to his arm, settling awkwardly on his wrist.

 _Oh, now you've done it, Pyrrha Nikos, you went to do something stupid and now you somehow look even stupider-_

That train of thought was rapidly derailed by the feeling of Jaune's hand shifting to grip her own.

 _Never mind._

"So, um… about the whole club thing," Jaune started, not making any move to extricate his hand from Pyrrha's grasp, which was a… it was a _thing_ , certainly, Pyrrha wouldn't call it a _sign_ but it was something. "Standing against the wall is cool and all, but do you want to, uh… like, I know you said you weren't that comfortable with the atmosphere and all so if you wanted to kinda… move somewhere less crowded, I guess? Also, upstairs is a little bit closer to Adam, so it's kind of a win-win situation if you think-"

"Sure," Pyrrha interrupted, trying to save him from his nervous rambling. "I saw some seats up on one of the second floor balconies, we could sit down for a minute while we wait for him to finish his business." She appreciated the concern, but if standing against the wall with her hand in his for an hour was required of her, she'd have agreed in a heartbeat. Still, sitting down was certainly a welcome invitation.

* * *

"Sit, sit, sit. We haven't spoken in almost 21 years, Adam, surely you have enough time to sit," Iwabe implored, taking a seat himself in a plush, gaudy recliner that faced parallel to the window, giving him an uninterrupted view of the city if he turned his head. However, all of his focus was on Adam. "You won't be staying long, anyway, I imagine."

To his credit, Adam figured this would look mighty suspicious and threatening to him too, if the situations were reversed and a paranoid-looking Iwabe came beating down his door.

Adam wasn't about to sit just yet. His hand remained on his pistol as he walked towards the seat, eventually settling on leaning against the window, pulling his sidearm up from his waistband just enough to make it known that he had it. He didn't trust Iwabe, how could he? He could barely trust himself, and now here comes one of his oldest friends, with an ADVENT badge. What was he supposed to do? Just accept that this is the way the world is now?

"What are you doing here?" Adam asked.

"Making preparations. There's an important… _individual_ … who has a vested interest in the goings on of a terrorist organization that seems to be spreading out across the eastern United States. I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that, Adam." Iwabe's tone was… morose. It sounded like speaking hurt him. Like it caused him pain to even try and reconcile the men he and Adam had been with the men they were now.

"I dunno. I've figured out a lot of things, lately, Iwabe," Adam stated cooly, trying not to let his own hurt leak out into his voice. He couldn't show weakness here. "Why? Why are you working with ADVENT?"

"You know I have a family, Adam. You didn't, so maybe you will not understand, but if they had asked me to surrender the Earth itself with my own two hands so that my family may be safe… I would likely have done it," Iwabe explained, turning his attention to the window. "And now look what I have to show for it. I am a comfortable man. My wife and children are healthy and cared for, and I have all that I could ask for. And yet, I am still not free. I am watched wherever I go. I have no doubt that I am being watched right now, speaking to a wanted man."

"Aye. Some people'd say that you got what you earned." Adam's grip on his pistol loosened, and he put more of his weight against the window. It was a hell of an effort to stand, for some reason. The whole conversation, the whole aura of the room felt physically _heavy_ , like the air was made of lead.

"I would say that I got far less. In the old world, the punishment for treason was far worse. But here I am, a regular Vikund Quisling… Why are _you_ here, Adam. Unless you have been stalking me for quite a while, I don't imagine you're just here to chat."

"I'm supposed to be beating the hell out of you for information about the Chosen, and the ADVENT Penitentiary just southeast of town."

"Ah, yes." Iwabe paused for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath in as he mulled over what to say. " I can tell you about both."

Adam's eyebrows shot up. "Can you, now?"

"The 'Chosen', as you call her. Jax-Hur Masha. I do not know what she is, only what she does," Iwabe explained, turning away from the window. "She is a killer. Far above ADVENT's jurisdiction, she silences those who have proven too much of a threat to our operations."

"And who is she hunting now?" Adam asked. "Is she in the area?"

"If I tell you, she will be hunting you, next. I am already a dead man, Adam. I was dead the moment you walked into this room."

Adam frowned. "You can walk out of it with me. I know people that can help you."

"And for how long? With this chip in my head, I am but a ticking time bomb." He tapped the back of his head for emphasis. Adam had seen the scars on the back of Tygan's skull, so it did little to faze him.

"We have a man who can remove them."

"The moment I am out of ADVENT's reach, it will be too late to stop them from following us. There is no escape for me, Adam. I now reap the fate of traitors."

"You sound awfully resigned to say you used to be bloody Thunderbolt, Iwabe. Where's the fuckin' fight?" Adam demanded, drawing his pistol and closing the distance between them, slamming his gun hand against the window. "You were the fastest bastard I knew, and you were one of the best of us. You were never shaken, never rattled, and you always kept forging ahead, no matter what, even to the bitter fuckin' end. Now that I'm giving you a chance to make things right, you're just going to sit in this fucking chair and wait for ADVENT to come and kill you?"

"Not ADVENT, Adam. Do you really think the bartender knew how to contact Central Officer Bradford?" Iwabe smiled, a sad affair that barely reached the eyes. "Here, here, we don't have much time." Opening his coat, he reached into one of the pockets and pulled out a PDA. "The SIM is removed, and all software has been wiped save for the data I have been able to collect about Jax-Hur and her ilk, as well as the prison facility. You will likely only have a day or two to move on the prison before security is too tight for you to attack it. I pray that you are prepared before then."

Adam took the device, putting it in his pocket. "Thanks, Iwabe. So… what are you going to do now?"

"Wait. I have an appointment, you see." Iwabe checked his watch, before looking back out the window. "Right about…"

Suddenly, Adam could hear sirens.

"Now."

 _Guess this is it, then._ Adam knew he had to get the kids and bolt, right now, before ADVENT cut off his exits. Still… he couldn't just leave Iwabe here. They had been friends, a long time ago. He could still do some good, even if it was only as an infobroker.

"Iwabe, you can come with me. We move around constantly, there's plenty of time to dispose of the bloody chip."

"I do not want the Chosen to start following you, Adam, because if she does, then you are a dead man." With that, Iwabe stood up, adjusting his tie. "Who all is left of Strike One?"

Adam backed off the wall, and forced his revolver back into its holster, noting an involuntary tremor in his hand. _It's the genetics. I'm not losin' it. Not yet._ "Me," he replied. "Ezekiel just came back, but it's a long story on his end. Of course, Central's there too. Shen's daughter's our chief engineer now."

"I always knew An-Yi was a smart girl," Iwabe noted with a chuckle. "Have you found Vahlen? Big Sky?"

"Disappeared, both. You know what happened to Raymond."

"Ah, I see." Iwabe looked out of the window one last time, and this time, Adam looked after him, noting the approaching lights at street level. ADVENT Interceptors. "Do send Ezekiel and Central my regards. I am glad you three are well."

Adam felt something. He wasn't sure if it was sorrow, or nerves, or fear, but he felt something, and he wasn't sure he was going to stop feeling it when he left this room. He'd have to sit down for a while when he got back to the Avenger, he knew that much.

"Good luck, Iwabe," was all he could think to say. _Not that luck's gonna do you any good now, you sorry bastard._

"The same to you, Mr. Invincible. Quickly now, you need to be leaving the premises before ADVENT gets here."

* * *

"—and so now they're throwing the bouquet, and like I told you before, I have a _huuuuuuuuge_ family, so everybody's practically throwing themselves over each other to grab it, except for me, because I'm trying not to get run over by my aunts or my older sisters, so of course, the stupid thing lands on my head. Before I can even react, though, my sister Peony, I kid you not, _throws me to the ground_ and grabs the—"

Pyrrha had rather enjoyed Jaune's story about the last time he'd been at any sort of large party, specifically his sister's wedding. Alas, it seemed that a simple human moment on this 'Earth' was rather impossible, as Adam was blasting commands into her ear within seconds.

 _"We've been compromised, but we got what we came for. Meet me at the back door, we're bailing the fuck out of here NOW!"_

"Oh, jeez…" Jaune muttered, resigned. "So, what? We make a run for it, or keep it cool?"

Suddenly, three gunshots rang out in rapid succession from the floor above them.

"I think running would seem rather innocuous," Pyrrha replied, grabbing Jaune by the wrist again and taking off at a dead run. Being as she was on the bigger, more athletic side of women in general, and evidently on a similar level compared to Earth women, she was able to bull her way through the now-panicking crowd with ease, her iron grip on Jaune keeping them tethered in spite of the wave of humanity around them. Some people were screaming, the music had turned off, and now Pyrrha could clearly hear sirens. _That back door had better be close._

Conveniently for her, the bouncer from before was weaving through the crowd himself, and just so happened to notice her. Just her luck.

"The back door is this way!" he called out, motioning for her and Jaune to follow. It was a tough trip—more people seemed to take his invitation than just her, but they made it out all the same. The back door led to a rather wide alley, and Pyrrha rapidly started looking for convenient exits they could hide in, finally settling on the alley behind another nearby business.

"Adam," she called over the comms, "we're going to the second alley on the right when you go through the back door! We'll wait for you there!"

 _"Got it! Central, we need our bloody Evac NOW!"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Copy that, Menace Lead, I've got Firebrand scrambling now. ETA two minutes. Send her the best extraction point you can find."_

 _"Tell her to hurry up, we don't have two minutes!"_ _  
_ _  
_Pyrrha pushed her way through the last remnants of the crowd into the aforementioned alley, finally out of danger for the moment. Another gunshot ringing out from the club suddenly and violently dispossessed her of that idea.

"That sounds like Adam's gun," Jaune noted. "I'm guessing the law caught up before he could sneak out."

"Oh, wonderful, our escort _kills police officers_ ," Pyrrha groaned. "I had concerns, and now I'm being shown that these concerns are—"

 **"FUCKING MOPPETS, THE LOT OF YOU,** ** _FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!"_** came the heavily accented voice of Adam from the back of the club, before a few people went fleeing out of the door, followed by a single gunshot that slammed into the metal building just behind the club with a loud **ding**. Adam stepped out, revolver in hand, with a look of rage contorting his features.

No, rage wasn't the right word for it. Pyrrha wasn't sure there was a word for the sheer, unadulterated _hate_ in this man's eyes, but hate seemed to fit it well enough.

"Adam!" she called out, her voice unintentionally cracking. She wasn't scared of that look, but it certainly caught her off guard. The man was usually angry when they met, but she'd never seen him quite this angry. It only proved her own point—the man had far from Team JNPR's best interests in mind, and if he ever turned that look on any of them, he wouldn't be looking at anything again.

Adam's head snapped towards her, and his face softened, if only a little. "I got clipped, and there's at least six ADVENT on my arse, let's go!" With that, he took off at a dead sprint and rounded the corner next to Pyrrha, not even bothering to hand over the guns. Not enough time, she supposed. She took off after him, still keeping a firm hold on Jaune's arm until she realized that yes, he was running after them, and yes, he could probably manage it on his own.

"Firebrand, this is Menace, do you have my location!?" Adam shouted.

 _"Confirmed, Menace, I got you on the scope. Where do you want your pickup?"_ the pilot answered.

"Anywhere but fucking here!" he shouted again, turning a corner so hard that it made Pyrrha's ankles sore just watching.

 _"Gee, that sure is specific. See you across the state line!"_

"Alright, listen here-" Adam started, halfway reaching to rip his comms out of his ear, as if that would do anything to help the situation.

 _"It's a fucking joke. I'm gonna set 'er near the big bank about three-hundred meters ahead of your position. There's a gas station right next to it, you should be able to find a ladder or something to get up there. If not, I'll meet you at street level. I'm on my way!"_ _  
_ _  
_"Thank fucking Christ you're good for something. Menace out!"

With that, comms were silent yet again, and Adam barreled ahead, at a speed that even Pyrrha was having to work to keep up with. She was surprised Jaune was keeping up so well. It was encouraging to know that her cardio was helping somewhat. Three-hundred meters was probably only about two minutes of running, non-stop, by her calculations.

After just forty meters, however, they were forced to stop by a pillar of purple light.

Pyrrha thought she was starting to get accustomed to strange things happening in her life ever since that rift in the air opened in the Emerald Forest, but now she was starting to doubt that was the case.

"Oh, son of a bitch! Not this again- kids, get fucking moving!"

 **"None of you are going anywhere, I'm afraid,"** rasped _something_ from the purple light, which rapidly dissipated to reveal a tall, skinny entity, at least 7 feet tall, with grey-purple skin, black and red armor, and a rather large blade on its back.

"Especially not you, 'Adam Jones'. You survived our last meeting through luck. And now, you only have two _children_ to defend you."

 _I don't have time for this_ , Pyrrha thought. Every second we spend stalling is another second 'ADVENT' can spend catching up to us.

She tried to see if she could feel her Aura. It was barely present, but present all the same. It would have to do.

Whatever 'it' was, drew its blade. It was now or never.

As Adam threw open his coat and reached for a second handgun, Pyrrha charged. Although she was unarmed, from what she had seen at the impromptu CQC session, the beings of Earth and its neighbors seemed to be a bit more frail than people from Remnant. Tall and well-armored this thing might be, but Pyrrha Nikos was 5'11" and 149 pounds of muscle. She had taken down far bigger, and far more intimidating opponents before. If a Death Stalker couldn't kill her, then this certainly wouldn't.

Pyrrha lowered herself so that the point of impact was around the humanoid's solar plexus, aiming to catch her with the front of her shoulder and proceed to knock it out. Unfortunately, she gravely overestimated the weight of this entity and its preparedness for such a brazen attack. She felt the sword bite into her aura around her neck, but it was of no consequence when both Pyrrha and said entity were flying a good few feet back from where she'd made contact- far enough, in fact, that she was unable to get a grip on her target before they hit the ground, leading Pyrrha to roll to a halt about two feet away from her target, who was scrambling to its feet with a look of shock, wheezing for breath.

"What in the Elder's Name-"

"No Elders here, you fucking TWAT!" Adam shouted, coming out from the corner of Pyrrha's vision with a revolver in one hand and a handgun in the other, both pointing at the entity on the ground. With his opinions on the enemy now clear, he unloaded both of his handguns, neither of which seemed to kill this thing, considering it kicked him rather harshly in the groin and sprung up to its feet as Pyrrha rose to hers.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha called out, before rushing back in. The entity grabbed its blade, and swung at her, barely missing as Pyrrha lunged to one side, ending up slightly behind it as she continued to advance, forcing the creature to turn its body one way while turning its head towards Jaune. Meanwhile, Adam was still in the fight, pouncing on the thing's leg and grabbing a firm hold with the crooks of his arm as Jaune prepared to throw a right hook at it. Perhaps recognizing that this was no ordinary punch compared to its usual quarry, it ducked, only to be sent down to the concrete as Pyrrha leapt into the air and thrusted her left leg down, stomping down on its head.

"MOVE!" Adam shouted as he released his grip, and scrambled to his feet, and resumed running as he holstered his revolver inside his jacket and grabbed the pistol intended for Jaune, aiming back over his shoulder in the direction of the still- dazed thing. Pyrrha and Jaune immediately took his advice, sprinting full-bore after Adam.

It wasn't much farther to their destination, and the Skyranger—as Pyrrha had heard it called—was rapidly approaching them. Still, Pyrrha knew whatever it was would be following them, and turned around to confirm that, indeed, it had been, now holding some sort of rifle while its sword remained on its back.

"XCOM may have found new tricks, but they will not save you from me!" it shouted.

"Oh, BUGGER OFF!" Adam shouted back, stepping in front of Pyrrha and firing a few shots at it, which it effortlessly juked before raising to fire at Adam. Instinct took over, and Pyrrha grabbed Adam by the arm and yanked him backwards with enough force to send him sprawling, as the thing fired its rifle. 'Rifle', as it turned out, was a misnomer, though- it was a _laser shotgun._

 _If this is what XCOM has to face on a daily basis, no wonder some of them desperately want our help._ _  
_ _  
_The spread of shots slammed into Pyrrha's shoulder, as she'd ended up casting herself into the path of the blast in her attempt to move Adam out of the way. Her Aura broke instantly, and once again she felt searing pain in her shoulder, and an unmistakable burn and throb just above her hip. She'd taken a big hit, but her Aura would be back eventually. If that had hit Adam, the best case scenario would have been severe injuries.

She didn't earn the name 'Invincible Girl' without taking a few cuts and bruises after all. This would pass.

The thing lowered its weapon, and slowed to a halt, surprising Pyrrha. It had the advantage now, so why would it stop?

"Such an attack would have killed a normal human… what are you, girl?" it asked.

"Why don't you come over here, and find out?" she replied, clenching her fists and assuming a combat stance. She'd have to dodge the next shot, now that she had no Aura to protect-

Was this thing dropping its gun?

"I admire your spark, even if it will lead to your demise, child…" it stated, discarding the gun in favor of the sword that had been sheathed within. "You fight well. I will give you a warrior's death. What is your name?"

"My name is Nikki Pearce." _I'd rather not have this thing knowing my real name._

"I am Jax-Hur, of the Elder's Chosen. Now, child, it is time for you to enter their embrace!"

With that, it rushed forward, leading with the blade and aiming to stab Pyrrha through the heart. A telegraphed attack, but one that left room for correction if Pyrrha dodged- it was more to test the waters than to kill. Pyrrha hopped to the left, the wound in her side protesting enough that her leg buckled on the initial landing. Jax-Hur was almost inhumanly fast, faster than Pyrrha, even, rapidly pivoting to take a swing at her that Pyrrha was only just able to lean out of the way of.

She could hear Jaune saying something behind them, and Adam forcing himself to his feet to intervene, the latter coming back into view by leaping at Jax-Hur boot-first. The kick caught the strange being in the jaw, sending it spinning to face back away from Pyrrha, who took advantage of the opportunity to throw a savage kick of her own, a side piston kick that visibly cranked Jax-Hur's neck.

It wasn't enough to kill, though, and as much as the very idea of murdering another sentient being curdled Pyrrha's blood, it seemed that was what had to be done.

Jax-Hur collected itself and readied its blade again, stepping back slowly and eyeing both Adam and Pyrrha. Pyrrha looked at her companion, who had thrown off his jacket to reveal a plain white t-shirt that exposed dimly-lit orange veins in his arms. There was something disturbingly _off_ about that, but this was not a time to ask questions.

"You're banged up. Go," Adam ordered.

"I'm fine," she replied, and despite the searing pain in her leg, she was. This was nothing. She was trained to suffer through far worse pain than this.

The growl that he replied with was more animal than human, but Adam charged ahead anyway, sliding under a swing from Jax-Hur's blade to try and take out its leg, only for the strange being to hurdle over him. Pyrrha was quick to capitalize, charging in and throwing an uppercut that, much to her annoyance and very prominent pain, was answered by a swing of the sword that carved deep into the back of her hand, almost bone deep. Behind Jax-Hur, Adam had drawn his gun, and was loading a single bullet into the chamber.

With that, Pyrrha understood what had to be done.

As Adam braced himself, Pyrrha went back in again, ducking under a sword swipe to throw a punch at Jax-Hur's gut with her uninjured hand, one that stiffened the 'Chosen's' legs and staggered it just enough for Pyrrha to follow up with a knee to the jaw, and another piston kick that sent it stumbling back into the waiting Adam, who rose and wrapped his unoccupied arm around its neck, while pressing the gun to its temple.

"Sweet dreams, you ayy samurai CUNT."

And with a bang, it was over, the bullet exploding from the other side of Jax-Hur's head with a torrent of metallic yellow blood. Adam threw the lifeless corpse to the ground, and spit on it.

"Pyrrha, are you okay?" Jaune asked, finally coming up from behind her. Turning to look at him, it gave her no end of relief that he was unharmed, save for being a bit red in the face from having to break away that fast.

"I'm a little banged up, but my Aura will fix the damage," she replied, with as much of a smile as she could muster considering that what had just happened made her physically ill. For someone that was practically raised with a sword in her hand, death wasn't very appealing to her. Now turning her attention to the _other_ blonde, she looked back at Adam, and couldn't stop herself from **flinching** at the look in his eyes.

The look he had focused on Jaune.

"Evac's here! All aboard, motherfuckers, I'm not sticking around for that thing's entourage!" Firebrand shouted over comms, mercifully drawing Adam's gaze away from Jaune for the moment.

Deep down, Pyrrha knew that wouldn't be the end of it. Mainly because she and Adam Jones were about to have some rather severe words, whenever they got out of this life-threatening situation.


	17. Chapter 17

**ADVENT Correction Facility "Gridiron"**

 **12:32 AM**

 **Formerly Port Lavaca, Texas**

 _You know, as far as places go, this 'Texas' isn't so bad_. _Sure, it's really warm and really, REALLY dry, and everything is kinda dead, but at least it's a pretty, clear evening!_

 _Oh, and Ren!_

 _And Murphy too, I guess, he seems nice enough. Kinda like how you'd think a dad to act, like, stern most of the time but also friendly and stuff. He kinda looks like a TV show dad, too, with the beard and the cigar._

 _Wow, I sure am bored right now. Are we gonna actually do anything here?_

The small plateau they'd taken up position on was dead silent, save for the wind passing by, and the distant sounds of the prison that loomed over them. It was scary-looking, sure, but it was probably the least-secure looking jail Nora'd ever seen. There was only one building, for one. No gates, just some low barriers and a few cameras. Every once in a while, a guard would walk into view, but other than that? It was a tiny little jail that looked like something out of a thriller movie set in Atlas.  
 _  
_"Hey, uh, Murphy?" she asked, trying to keep her voice down. "When are we going in?"

"Shh," Murphy admonished her, his voice practically a whisper. "Fuck's sake, you're loud as a fuckin' jet engine. We're waitin' for the guard rotation."

The sun was out in force and Nora found herself hiding on the other side of the rock Murphy was leaning against to get out of the heat. Ren seemed fine where he was, under a dead tree and trying to take something resembling a power nap. Or meditating. Nora never knew which, and whenever she assumed, it was always the opposite of what she guessed.

"So, uh… Murphy?" Nora started, looking up over her shoulder to the man on the rock, who seemed more focused on his cigar than the prison he was supposed to be watching.

"Yeah?"

"What did this guy do to end up in jail?"

Murphy sighed, looking up at the prison and giving it a quick once over. "He wanted to be free."

"Whaddya mean?" Nora didn't quite get it. What was so wrong with wanting to be a free person?

Murphy turned on his seat, and looked down at Nora. She noted that he looked rather forlorn, as if he didn't really want to be talking about this. "Mox, the guy we're rescuing, is an ADVENT. Kinda like the guys you've been helping us fight. Now, most of the ADVENT are under the mind control of the Elders - aliens in charge of the occupation of our planet. But Mox found a way out of it. He tried to help us out and got caught."

"Oh. So, yeah, we gotta bust him out quick then."

"Yeah," Murphy agreed. "We do."

The big man stopped for a second, still looking at Nora, though now he looked more concerned than upset. "Oi, Nora?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you… I 'unno, feel like something was forcing you to agree to come along with me?"

"No, of course not! You're helping us, and we're helping you! Why wouldn't I agree?" Nora asked. Really, she saw it as a simple question with a simple answer. There wasn't any reason to say no.

"It's not that, it's just… well, I'll explain another time. Let me put it this way- I want you to do what makes you happy, and what gets you home the fastest. There are people in XCOM who want what makes _them_ happy and wins the war the fastest - you going home being optional."

Nora frowned. Most of the XCOM folk had been friendly to JNPR, but she had noticed a few of them were either cagey, ready for them to go away, or a bit _too_ eager to have them around. She wanted to help, she really did, but going home was their top priority. Wasn't it?

"Yeah, well the way I see it, as long as we're here, we'll help you," Nora explained. "If that means we're only here for one more day, or for a year, as much as I wouldn't really wanna stay that long, but if that's what it takes then I'll do it! I'll give ya all I've got regardless." She gave Murphy the biggest smile she could muster, and a thumbs up.

Murphy didn't exactly smile back, but the tiny twitch of the lips and the look in his eyes made it clear that he appreciated it.

All of the sudden, the big earpiece in her ear started giving Nora static, and Murphy looked rather pissed. "Ah, fu-"

 _"Hey, Hitman Lead, we've uh… had a SLIGHT change of plans,"_ came the voice of the pilot lady from earlier- Firebrand, or something like that. _"I'm coming in for a pickup now. Menace says we have to hit the facility ASAP. Get whatever you can on the scope and bug the fuck out, I'll be there in 5."_

"The hell's goin' on, Firebrand?" Murphy asked, removing his cigar from his mouth and blowing a long trail of smoke. He looked pretty upset about being called. "We've barely even gotten a good view of the place."

 _"Turns out we're already burnt. As soon as we get back to the Avenger, Bradford wants us stacking up a team to hit the prison."_

"We could hit it right now for all that effort," Murphy replied, returning his cigar and sagging with a look of sheer mental exhaustion _._ Nora felt like he knew something she didn't right now, which, to be fair, summed up how she felt about a lot of these Earth people. "You know what? Sod it. Tell Bradford I'm goin' in."

 _"Murph, I'm not sure that's the best idea-"_

"What could possibly go-"

 _"DON'T! Even fucking start! I'm gonna loiter over the area but you better hurry up and get our guy out of there, if you're really going through with this!"_

"Oh, I am," Murphy assured her, looking at Ren, then at Nora. "You two fancy a little scrap?"

"Pardon?" Ren asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I said do you want a fuckin' fight?"

"Not parti-" Ren started, only to be cut off by-

"AWWWWWWW YEAH!" Nora shouted, causing both of her companions to physically recoil. "JAILBREAK!"

"Is she always this excited?" Murphy asked.

"Usually," Ren replied.

Murphy let out a ragged groan as he stood up, revving the motor of his chaingun- _that has got to be the coolest weapon I've seen since I got here!-_ and turning to Nora. "How many grenades do you have left?"

"Taaa-wentyfiiiiive!" she replied with a grin that seemed to only make Murphy look more put-off than he had been already. _Does he not like smiling, or something?_

"Save as many as you can. You're gonna blow open walls and break any turrets that catch us off-guard. Ren, you're with me. Trigger discipline, people- you don't have much spare ammo."

"You got it!" Nora agreed, spinning Magnhild in her hands excitedly. She hadn't gotten to give anything a good whack in a **minute** _._

* * *

It wasn't easy to scare a six-and-a-half foot tall Aussie built like a brick shithouse with 11 years of military experience, but Nora Valkyrie had managed to intimidate Murphy something fierce. He couldn't help but respect that a little bit, along with fearing the wrath of that _fuck huge_ hammer.

 _I need me one of those._

The approach to the prison was a massive killzone - as soon as they were spotted they'd be sitting ducks - so Murphy knew that they'd have to act fast.

Ren started running first, leaping off the high ground and landing just short of a dead run towards the prison. Nora followed, moving faster than Murphy could on his BEST day. Still, he had to try, so off he went, sliding down a nearby embankment to end up on the ground, and taking off running. Being as he was the biggest and by far the most recognizable of the three of them- what, being the one who was on wanted posters and all- he figured he could make himself useful one way. Covering fire. One thing he'd learned in SOER was how to hit hard, fast.

The turrets around the prison spotted Ren first, and the ADVENT guards were rapidly converging on the side of the prison where they'd be making their entry. A few were already in the prison yard, readying their weapons.

 _Prison's tall. Full alien alloy walls, embrasures stick out a good few feet from the main building, too thick for bullets to pierce. Definitely thick enough to stop shrapnel._

Murphy clipped his massive chaingun to his lower back, and drew his grenade launcher, checking the first chamber.

Frag. Perfect.

Whipping his grenade launcher around to face the prison wall, he measured the distance by eye- no time to get a proper range. "One- one thousand… two- one thousand… three- one thousand… four."

With that, he fired, and the grenade sailed through the air in a high and long arc across the yard towards the prison, rapidly descending towards a group of guards that were beginning to fire on Ren. The grenade detonated a second away from hitting the ground, erupting at about ADVENT head level in a wave of air and blackish-red smoke, as intended. Murphy was bad at many things, but geometry? Not likely.

"Can't handle me, you fuckin' pikers," he muttered, hoisting the launcher over his shoulder and grabbing his chaingun again. He still had quite a bit of running left to do. A few ADVENT were left standing after his grenade stunt, but Ren and Nora made quick work of them, with Ren quite literally dropkicking one through a window, while Nora simply threw herself hammer first into a pair of 'em and gave them a sound wallop with the hammer, sending them both flying into the wall with a resounding **thunk**.

"Wait!" Murphy called out, attempting to get the much faster children to slow down. He didn't like getting left behind, reminded him too much of how things used to be. Back when he wasn't fast enough to stop the world from falling to pieces right in front of his eyes. Thank God they heard him.

"Fuck, you two are fast," Murphy said, stopping to catch his breath for a second.

"You're just slow!" Nora countered, drawing an exasperated sigh (and a little bit of a smile) from Murphy.

"Alright," the old vet began, pointing at the window that Ren had so kindly bitch-kicked an ADVENT through, "this is-"

"Hey, watch out!" Nora called out, throwing her hammer out spike-first and crooking Murphy like he was a vaudeville sideshow man, and pulling him against the wall just as a hail of magnetic fire smacked into the ground where he'd been standing. Murphy's eyes followed the trail up to a turret, which was now looking straight down at them.

Which was answered with a loud report from a grenade launcher and promptly exploded in a cloud of pink smoke and orange flames. When Murphy turned to see the source, Nora just smiled, her hammer now back in grenade launcher form and smoking from the barrel.

 _I REALLY need one of those. NOW. Note to self- bug Tygan for 'em._

"Thank you, El-"

Wrong Nora.

"-Nora. Appreciate it." Murphy gave a weak half-smile that he absolutely knew wasn't convincing anyone.

Nora smiled back. "So, what's the plan?"

Murphy pressed the back of his head against the wall and cut his eyes at the window. "As I was SAYING, this is our point of entry. Get inside and watch my back while I crack into the cell block and get the doors open. Once we get in, I'll pick 'im up, and send for evac on the roof. Keep. Me. Covered. I can't shoot my cannon and hold up Mox at the same time."

"Right-o!" Nora replied.

"You can count on us," Ren followed. Murphy didn't doubt it, at least in Ren's case- he'd seen and heard Lawrence's glowing testimony to the boy's competence.

Murphy nodded before taking a few steps back and lining up with the window. "If that's the case, then follow me!" He took off into a sprint, leaping through the broken window and somehow landing on his feet right next to Ren's half-conscious ADVENT victim. Ren followed him through the window, rolling to a knee gracefully next to him, while Nora tumbled a bit more awkwardly after them, landing right next to the ADVENT's gun, which she immediately went to grab away from the ADVENT goon reaching for it.

Murphy'd seen enough unlucky Resistance idiots doing that. The electrical charge on the biometric scanner was enough to kill a man his size TWICE. "Nora, wait-"

Too late. Nora grabbed a firm hand around the trigger guard, and took a nice, long zap. Ren looked… oddly unconcerned, which served only to make Murphy even more concerned himself.

Murphy immediately grabbed the poor girl by her shoulders and yanked her off the gun, before drawing his pistol and putting a round through the head of the slowly-rising ADVENT, who had intended to capitalize on Nora's error. Much to Murphy's shock, Nora stood right up with a smile on her face, looking perkier than usual.

Nothing else looked right, though. Nora had a char on her cheek, neck, and wrist, and the hand that had been grabbing the gun looked outright _scalded,_ already starting to crack and blister around the thumb. Yet Nora seemed perfectly fine with this.

"You should be dead." Murphy stated. He wanted to scream it, grab the girl by the arm and get her to the nearest medical facility, but he knew that wasn't an option anymore.

 _"Pop, it burns! IT BURNS!"_

 _"SOMEONE GET ME SOME BLEEDIN' WATER! SOME FUCKIN'! WATER!"_

Murphy ripped his gaze away from the arm, and from Nora, instead pretending to busy himself observing the walls. _  
_  
"Nah! Semblance! I can absorb electricity!" Nora explained. "I'll be real, I kinda wasn't sure if it was working right, but I guess it is… my head hurts."

Murphy's worries only grew. These kids were really, REALLY something else, weren't they? He'd get Nora looked at later, he had a job to do. Looking around the cell block, he noticed that the cells before him were completely empty, and that there was a hallway that lead to a main terminal, an exit, and another wing of cells, it seemed. Mox must be over there.

"Ren, Nora. Watch that door, right there. I'm grabbing our man."

Nora and Ren ran off to do so, the former very noticeably stumbling and failing to keep up with Ren, while Murphy went for the opposite cell block, already noting that the cells here were much, much worse. Most of them were the same size as the others, but they were obviously… recently occupied. One of them had the door open, and when Murphy passed it, he took note of a woman sitting against the wall with a hole in her head the size of his fist. The last cell caught his attention in a different, more positive way. The cell was large, wide, and had nothing in it save for a few screens and something lying on the floor. That, and blood. Lots of blood. Yellowish blood, like ADVENT blood.

 _Wait, what the fuck am I thinking?_

This must be Mox's cell. Murphy approached the door, noting that the security on this door was the tightest he'd ever seen on anything in his time dealing with ADVENT. He wasn't sure he'd be able to crack it.

Not by hacking, anyway.

Taking a few steps back, Murphy pulled his grenade launcher back up off his back, aimed for the grates on the right side of the cell, and fired. Now he was halfway out of grenades on an op that would probably need quite a few of them, but it seemed to have worked- there was a nice, big, smoking hole in the grating. He heard something on the other end, possibly their man stirring, but he couldn't be sure.

"I'm on your side, Moxxie my lad, come on! Let's get you movin'!" Murphy called out, hopping through the hole in the grate and walking over to the Skirmisher and hoisting him over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He got no response- poor bastard must have gotten the tar kicked out of him, what with all the blood around the cell. Back out the cell they went, towards the exit.

Ren and Nora were waiting behind the door, magnetic fire searing the air between them as ADVENT seemed intent on shooting the holy hell out of the computer desk. Murphy almost wanted to laugh at how stupid it looked. However, he had more pressing matters- Nora's upbeat demeanor had gone, and now the girl was down on one knee, eyes unfocused, holding her head.

"Oi, she alright!?" Murphy shouted over the din of mag fire.

"I don't know, I think it may have something to do with our Aura malfunctioning!" Ren replied.

Nora didn't respond, at least not verbally. The last time Murphy'd seen that look on someone, it had been when Jerry got his head rocked by that ADVENT turret back in Julian's tower. Jerry had taken a bullet to the head and gotten a severe concussion. Nora hadn't even been hit by anything, just gotten the…

 _Oh, fuck.  
_  
"We need to get out of here, and get her to the med team. She's fuckin' fried!"

"What?" Ren asked, turning to look at Murphy. Murphy had never seen him anything other than composed before, so the harried, utterly terrified look on his face served only to set Murphy more ill at ease.

"I said we're gettin' her out of here! You think you can carry this guy?" Murphy motioned to the big ADVENT defector on his shoulder, before grabbing his grenade launcher with his free hand.

Ren nodded. "I can try!"

"Right then, let's do this! Stay behind me!" With that, Murphy motioned Ren over, and heaved the big guy off of his shoulder. To Ren's credit, he only buckled a little bit as he caught Mox on one arm, before lifting him up over his shoulder. He started over towards Nora, but balked at the resumed hail of mag fire coming through the door.

Murphy checked the chambers on his grenade launcher. The Frost Bomb was currently lined up to fire, but Murphy needed something else. Taking his last grenade off his belt, he slammed the smoke canister into the second chamber, forced the assembly around, and slammed the buttstock into the back of the launcher to cock it. "I'll go out first," Murphy explained. "When you hear me shout for you, run straight through the smoke!"

"Alright!"

With that, Murphy aimed at the door frame, and fired, the smoke grenade bouncing off the frame with a loud **thunk**. After about two seconds, the hiss of the canister discharging was heard, and Murphy grabbed his cannon, revving the motor and sending the barrels into motion. Once the mauve-tinted smoke started to filter into the doorway, he stepped out of the prison and back into the sunlight.

Stepping out into the doorframe, he lowered his cannon to waist-height and began running to the right, an awkward thing to do while keeping a chaingun level and aimed downrange. As soon as he broke from the smoke, he could see them. Five contacts, three to the left by some crates and a transport ruck, and two to the center, walking down the entryway with weapons raised. They weren't expecting him to break right, for some reason. Maybe it was the lack of cover between him and the extraction point- there was absolutely nothing between him and there until he got to a small creek bed.

Grinding his heels into the dusty earth, Murphy turned his eyes and gun onto the leftmost ADVENT, and fired. The first few rounds struck home, sending his target flying backwards, so he slowly began sweeping the gun to the right, firing away as mag fire whipped and cracked around his head. By the time the bullets started whizzing past the second, it'd finally noticed where the shots were coming from. Said hostile couldn't act on it though, as a cannon round smashed into the next one over's helmet and left everything above nose level a red-orange mush. The other three began firing, and Murphy lowered himself and put his shoulder forward, trying to lower his profile. It did some good- a mag round that came a bit too close to home glanced off the metal guard he'd taken to wearing over his left shoulder, while another simply nicked him in the thigh. By that point he'd already struck down another ADVENT, leaving only the two directly in front of the doorway.

"MOVE NOW!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, taking a step back and turning his body before opening fire again.

He couldn't turn back to see anything by the doorway, but one thing that struck him as strange was the fact that he didn't hear Ren's pistol, even though he could have sworn he saw the boy draw it. What he could see and hear, though, was the ADVENT officer shouting and motioning at the doorway, trying to get his surviving subordinate's attention. With that break in the fire, Murphy grabbed his launcher again, and cycled the action to load up the Frost Bomb, and raising it with one arm. The recoil was gonna hurt, but now the enemy were firing back in Ren and Nora's direction, and Murphy couldn't let that stand.

The launcher slammed back into the crook of his elbow rather firmly, but it wasn't going to be more than a bruise. The blue, frost-covered grenade sailed in an almost arrow-like path at the ADVENT officer, smacking it in the head and knocking it to the ground, and drawing the other's gaze. It started to shout something in its alien gibberish, but was silenced by the grenade's detonation, which sent up a massive spray of grey-blue frost. Murphy didn't stop to see the after-effects, instead looking back at where Ren was supposed to be.

Ren had one arm holding Mox on his shoulder, while the other was wrapped around Nora's waist, guiding her along. She still had that half-vacant look on her face. That shock had done something _bad_.

"She can't move on her own?" Murphy asked, clipping the grenade launcher to his back again.

"She's barely responding to me. I don't want to take any chances," Ren responded.

"Neither do I. Come on, I've got her. You're gonna need a free hand to get up the rocks."

Ren gave him an unsettling look- like a caged animal, almost. It was as fleeting as the breeze, though- no sooner then had Murphy noticed it, it had gone again "Alright."

With that, Murphy grabbed Nora by the arm. "Come on, we're gettin' you out of here."

Nora groaned. "Okay… owwww…"

Pulling the girl into the crook of his arm, Murphy took back off, clipping his cannon to his back and drawing his handgun. "Looks like an easy climb straight ahead, see that tall rock? You're just gonna have to toss Mox up over the ridge, then jump up there yourself."

"Got it," Ren replied, taking off into a dead run with speed that a man hefting something as big as Pratal Mox had no business running at. Murphy liked to think he was in good shape for a man in his late 40s, but geez!

He took off after Ren, pulling Nora along with him. She was able to keep her legs moving fine, but Murphy didn't trust her to make it to the LZ alone at this point. He heard the sound of approaching ADVENT transports, but with effectively two men and two dead weights to escort, there was no way in hell they'd be able to stand and fight. Taking his gun hand to his earpiece, he called and hoped to fuck that Firebrand was in the area.

"Firebrand, gimme some good fuckin' news right now!"

 _"I've got you on my scope - Hitman, you good?"_

"No, I'm not fucking good! I got a WIA, plus the package, and every fucking ADVENT in this zip code wants a piece of my ass! Where the fuck are you!?"

 _"I'm comin'! I see Bruce Lee up on the ridge line, can you make it up there?"_

"Where do you think I'm GOING!?"

 _"Roger, smartass, hang on! I'll be there in less than a minute!"_

Murphy looked over his shoulder to see an ADVENT MEC disembarking from a transport, with a couple of troopers in tow. Another transport was stacking up behind it, this one with at least six troopers, counting the red-clad commander, trying to flag him down. Not the best thing to see behind you.

"Alright, this is gonna hurt a little bit!" Murphy informed Nora, before grabbing her by the collar and hoisting her onto his shoulder. Despite being quite short compared to him- he'd have to assume she was around 5'9 or so-, she and her hammer weighed quite a damn bit. He was gonna have a hell of a time giving her a toss. "REN!" he shouted, back into comms.

 _"Yes?"_

"Grab Nora when I toss her over, then start running again! I'll cover you!"

 _"Alright!"_

With that, Murphy forced himself up on the tall rock he'd have to jump from, and hoisted Nora up as high and far back as he could manage, then chucked her at the waiting Ren. She didn't get very far, just far enough to land flat on her bum in front of Ren, who immediately dragged her to her feet.

"Come on, Nora, just a little farther!" Ren assured her.

Nora's response was either silence or too quiet for Murphy to hear. The veteran jumped onto the outcropping of the ridge, managing to land the waist on up on the top. Forcing one leg after the other, he managed to roll onto his back, and start getting up. Unfortunately, he ended up catching a glimpse of what was behind them.

There wasn't one MEC, there were three, and they were all priming their grenade launchers.

"Oh, for the love of fu-"

The first grenade hit the ridgeside near him, while the second landed a bit in front of him as he took off running. A third landed close enough to stagger him and send his hat flying off and strands of sweaty blonde hair straight into his left eye. A fourth landed right behind him and sent him stumbling into the dirt, while a fifth landed so close it smacked him in the face with rocks and debris.

He could barely hear anything at this point, but thank God for the Skyranger's loud as hell engines, because he'd have to be COMPLETELY deaf to not hear those.

 _"MacAuley, move your arse! We're leaving!"_ came Adam's voice, barely audible over the ringing in Murphy's ears, but present nonetheless. He managed to force himself to his feet and move forward, looking up through his hair and the kicked-up dust to see Adam and Ren firing their pistols at the encroaching ADVENT, while Pyrrha-

 _Oh no, not again._

"Wait, don'-" Murphy started, but alas, Pyrrha took the choice out of his hands, as Murphy watched her arm flick backwards with a crackle of red and black, and he felt his knee slowly lifting into the air. Evidently she hadn't learned from last time, as she flung him towards the Skyranger knee first, with no way for him to correct his course or even move more than flailing helplessly and hoping to god she didn't run out of Aura. This time, due to the much longer distance, he was probably going to faceplant on the lowered Skyranger ramp, which would certainly not be a favorable outcome.

Lucky him, Adam caught him with his free arm, stopping him a good foot short of a broken nose and a shattered dignity.

"That's everyone, Firebrand! Let's get moving!" he called back, dragging Murphy behind him as the latter struggled to get his balance back, and glared daggers at Pyrrha.

"For the LOVE OF GOD," the Aussie half-shouted, half-cried at the top of his lungs, "STOP DOING THAT!" His mind immediately did a 180, and went straight back to Nora. His eyes frantically darted around the Skyranger until he found the girl, seated off to the side with her burnt hand gripping her hammer for dear life, while the other fidgeted slightly against her head.

Something was very, _very wrong_.


	18. Chapter 18

The ride back to Beacon was surprisingly peaceful, in spite of it being early morning- 6:00 'BN', whatever that meant- and Eric found himself halfway dozing off all the way back to Beacon. Remnant was a lot prettier when stuff wasn't trying to murder you, he'd noticed.

That woman. He didn't know her name, but the instant they locked eyes he knew she was trouble. And the way she asked if she knew Ezekiel… were Earth and Remnant connected in some other way? Was he somehow here? Did that woman run into him? What exactly did she want? 

Once the bus reached the academy, he walked up to the door, swiped his charge card, and stepped off onto the walkway, where he could see some students starting to mill around and busy themselves. 

_Man, I wouldn't have been able to get to school at 6 in the fucking morning.  
_

The crowd wasn't bad enough to impede him, though. He probably looked strange, a tall, scarred man in a big overcoat walking around with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed, but Eric didn't particularly care what he looked like. As long as people didn't bother him, he'd be fine. Figuring that was probably a mistake, though, since as soon as the thought had crossed his mind, he noticed someone running up alongside him. A girl, probably 16 or 17, with hair so pink it looked like cotton candy, and equally pink eyes. Almost hurt to look at her, how bright it was. 

"E-excuse me, but, um... are you Professor Peach?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and annoyingly warbly, like she thought Eric was going to grab her around the neck and choke her out on the spot... actually, considering the look he'd seen in the mirror, he could see where someone might expect him to do that. 

"No, I'm not. Sorry, miss," he replied, turning his head back towards the school. Hopefully the girl would get the hint. 

"Oh, um... sorry!" With that, the girl dashed off, leaving a very confused, but otherwise unbothered Eric to continue his solemn march towards the school. He got inside without issue, and no other students seemed to be bothering him. The walk to the infirmary was equally uneventful, save for noticing that in front of the doors to the infirmary wing stood that Goodwitch lady who'd helped him figure out where the showers were the other day. 

She didn't look very happy with him.

"Did you _enjoy_ your outing, Mr. Frost?" she asked pointedly, narrowing her eyes at him in a glare that rivaled the intensity of the Southern California sun. If looks could kill, Eric was convinced he'd spontaneously burst into flames.

"Yeah. Went out, relaxed a little bit, saw the town," Eric replied nonchalantly.

"You could have waited and _asked permission_ before lighting off. It's dangerous for someone like-"

"Someone like _what_?" Eric repeated, raising an eyebrow. He knew this woman could probably rebreak his arm as fast as she had fixed it, but he didn't like where that was going.

Goodwitch seemed to be calling his bluff. She just stood there, glaring at him, while he did what he could to act like he wasn't fazed. It was obviously not selling well.

"I left you a damn note," Eric added, as if that would help.

"You still should have told someone you were leaving."

"Figured you were sleeping."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have left at 11:30 at night, Mr. Frost," Glynda admonished him. Was that crop in her hand always there, or had it just showed up?

"I'll be sure to wake you up in the middle of the night then, next time. My arm's fine, thank you for asking."

"Ms. Rose wanted to know how you were faring," Glynda stated, her gaze turning to his arm. "She had intended to give you something before classes started."

"Who the hell is 'Ms. Rose?'" Eric's irritation was growing. He just wanted to go and sit down for a minute, try not to think about that freaky as shit woman he'd run into at the bar, and collect his thoughts, and Glynda certainly wasn't helping him.

"The girl who broke your arm against her jaw when you were trying to kill one her teammates."

Oh. Well, shit, now he just felt like a jackass.

"Guess you told her I was fine?" Eric guessed.

"No, I told her that you were out. She'd insisted on speaking to you directly."

"Well, I'm _in_ now."

"She's in class at the moment."

"Well, fuck me, wasn't this the biggest waste of my time?"

"What were you even doing last night, Mr. Frost?" Glynda asked. "What possessed you to go into the city? Even though you've gotten a pardon, I doubt most places would want to do business with someone who had been just recently raiding their dumpsters."

"A guy I met on the bus bought me drinks and some food, and we hung out at some club. I got to relax a little bit, sit down in something that wasn't a bed or a steel chair, and most importantly, he only asked me stupid fucking questions like 'what's your sign' and 'how long have you been in town', instead of grilling me about my entire fucking life story and how I got to this shitty fucking death planet. How about you get off my ass and go do your fucking job?"

Glynda seemed taken aback by Eric's sudden outburst, and to be fair, he sort of was too. He was a bit angry about the whole situation, yes, but not nearly enough to justify popping off at someone who had nothing to do with it. Or did she?

No, she probably didn't, and it was really fucking ridiculous of him to think otherwise.

"Taking care of you is part of my job now, Mr. Frost," Glynda stated, her voice ice-cold now, as if it was taking everything she had not to smack the taste out of his mouth with that crop.

"Right. Figured as much. I'm not leaving again, least not for a minute. Tell the Rose girl she can come by whenever, I'll be here."

"Of course."

With that, she stepped out of the way to the door, and Eric headed back inside the infirmary.

 _Man, if I could go back in time, I wouldn't have pushed so hard._

Blake wasn't sure how she'd done it, but she'd somehow finagled her way out of Port's class when the bell rang, instead of loitering around for YET ANOTHER 45 minute long post-class tall tale. That man had hawk eyes, too- the last time someone tried to sneak out (one of Cardin's 'friends') he'd caught them the moment they reached the door, and made him sit down right in front of the whole class and do an entire oration-only pop-quiz. At least her time in the Fang was good for something, although she'd highly doubt her past self would appreciate hearing that- " _Hey, the killing you've done and acts of violence you've enabled will allow you to sneak out of any lecture that bores you too much_."

She had other things she was more concerned about. Namely, the state of her new… well, he certainly wasn't a friend… more an acquaintance. An acquaintance that attempted to kill her. To be fair, not the worst introduction she'd ever received, but it was up there. Regardless, she worried about Eric. The man was obviously not all there, and Remnant wasn't a place you wanted to be lost in, let alone a forest where the Grimm could and often were ranging free. From what little conversation she'd witnessed between him and Ozpin, he seemed like a decent man, not at all someone deserving of… whatever it is that happened to him.

Hence why she felt the need to check up on him. She was, after all, partially responsible for adding on to his misery, as well as pulling him out of it. She felt some sort of connection to the stranger, however minute.

The infirmary was a little bit louder than the last time she'd been in. A student had broken his nose during a spar with Cardin, and was currently getting checked out by Nurse Lapis, and making a little bit of a fuss about it. The nurse wasn't known for having the gentlest touch- how a woman as flighty and careless as her ended up as Beacon's nurse, Blake would never know. Hopefully she was more gentle with Frost- he didn't have Aura to fix up anything that got broken again.

Finding her way to Frost's door, she found it open, with the man in question sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall with those glassy blue eyes. At this angle, the resemblance was almost nonexistent. His face was gaunt and pale, with sunken cheeks and eyes ringed with purplish-black, and a jaw framed with a now much-thinner dark brown beard. His hair was shorter now, still curly, but cut close and slicked back somewhat.

"Mr. Frost?" Blake spoke up. The man jolted upright, and turned towards the door, reaching for the little table next to his bed for… something. Whatever it was, he didn't find it, and it didn't matter. He visibly eased when he noticed it was Blake.

"Oh. Hey, Blake. You're done with class?" Frost asked.

"Yeah, at least for the next hour and a half or so. Our athletic block is coming up soon, and I'm supposed to be sparring with Yang- the blonde girl. I'm not looking forward to it, she takes these things way too seriously sometimes."

"Well, I mean, from what it sounds like, you need to take this shit deadly serious," Frost countered, returning his arms to his lap, where he folded them and leaned towards the wall slightly. He finally turned to look at her, and now Blake was very certain that it was only the latent trauma of what had happened that made her think this man looked in any way like Adam. Even the look in his eyes was different. Not the dead, soulless look that only ever changed to anger, if it ever changed at all. Frost looked… scared.

Just scared.

"I suppose so. Do they let you do anything besides sit around in this room?" she asked, her hands going to her satchel. She'd brought a few books she thought he might enjoy- mostly stories from the Great War and history books, things she figured a military man might enjoy.

"Nah, not much. Snuck out last night, had a bit of fun at a club, but some creepy bitch ran me off," Frost explained. "Goodwitch gave me an earful when I got back this morning, but hey, now I've got a sort of stalkerish dude's phone number, and a friendly bartender."

"Sort of stalkerish?" Blake repeated, concerned.

"Pretty sure the guy was hitting on me. He's wasting his time, I don't swing that way… don't swing ANY way, really," Frost continued. "Might go to that club again, though, the owner was a stand-up guy."

"Which club was that?"

"I think it's just called 'The Club." Eric shrugged his shoulders, smirking a little bit as he recalled his experience. "There's no name or anything, just an old building. Really fucking cool lightshow, though, and the DJ may be a creepy fuck, but he knows how to run a table."

Junior's. Junior? Junior Xiong? Yang had told Blake about her… _experience_ at that particular club when she first came to Beacon. It was a very violent experience.

"Well," Blake started again, after a short pause. "I brought you something, in case you got bored. Beacon has a library, so I checked out a few books for you. Mostly history and… military history, if you're interested, I wasn't sure what you preferred. A few stories from back during the Great War, things like that."

"Appreciate it, Blake. More of a comics and manga guy myself, but I'll take what I can get."

Did she hear that right? Manga? Did Earth have manga?

"You… know what manga is?"

"Shit yeah, I love that stuff. I used to have a couple of volumes of One Piece back when I was out on deployment, read those bad boys whenever we were stuck at Bombaconda for a couple of months," Frost explained with a smile, although that smile rapidly started to fade. "Ah, shit… those were in the fucking barracks. I wonder if any of the guys kept my stuff, or if they… yeah, they probably think I'm dead."

That was NOT where Blake wanted this conversation to go. "I'm quite a fan myself. I doubt our tastes align exactly, but there's quite a variety at a bookstore near here. What kind of stories do you like?"

Frost sighed, resting his chin on one hand and taking a minute to think. "I like… you know, outlandish stuff. It can be lighthearted and fun, or it can be dark and dramatic. You know, like Oda or Ito's stuff. Ah, shit, right you don't know who they are. Okay…"

"I can look around and see if I find you anything that fits those descriptions," Blake offered.

Frost's smile returned, a bit smaller, but no less sincere. He sat upright again, kicking one leg up on the bed and stretching himself out a bit, seemingly content to let his guard down now that he and Blake were just chatting. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks."

"Not a problem. I can't imagine it's much fun being cooped up in the infirmary all day." Blake gave him a smirk and a slight shrug of the shoulders, before looking at the books in her bag. "So, I'm guessing you're going to pass on these?"

"Fuck no, please, give me something to do!" Frost answered immediately, seemingly laughing at the absurd notion that he would pass on any sort of distraction from the four sea-foam green walls and sterilized counters of this barren infirmary ward.

Just as Blake had the books in hand, the door flew open again. Frost seemed a bit worried by the sudden intrusion, probably expecting it to be Goodwitch, but Blake already knew who it was. Ruby had made it clear to her that she wanted to apologize to Frost for some reason, so she'd went and bought him a box of cookies from a local bakery (well, half a box. Ruby evidently couldn't restrain herself for a whole morning.) When Frost saw the smaller girl peeking out from behind Blake, he visibly relaxed.

"Hi!" Ruby called out nervously, immediately offering the half-box of cookies as an attempt at pacification. "I got you some cookies… but you were gone earlier so I kinda sorta mighta…" Her voice trailed off slowly as she shrunk back behind Blake. "... _ateafewofthem._ "

Frost just shook his head, grinning ear to ear in a way that both reassured and unsettled Blake. Skeletal features plus a smile equaled a very unsettling image. "Ah, come on, now you're just buttering me up for no reason. Thanks, kiddo."

Ruby smiled, peeking out from behind Blake again. "No problem! Sorry about, you know, the whole 'arm breaking' thing!"

"Sorry about the whole 'clotheslining you to a dead stop' thing," Frost replied, shaking his head again. "Seriously, don't worry about it. If anything, the pain woke me up a bit. Kinda shook me out of… stuff."

Ruby finally came out of Blake's shadow, shuffling over to Frost and handing him the box, which he took and placed on the stand next to his bed. Blake took the opportunity to hand over the books, which Frost placed next to the confectionery before leaning back on his bed and making himself comfortable. "So, did you just come to check in on me?" he asked, incredulous. " After, you know, I… tried to kill you."

"You _did_ seem like you weren't in your right mind," Blake countered.

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "Plus, you seem like a really nice guy when you're not going crazy! But, um, I'm not just here to bring you cookies. There was something I wanted to ask you about!"

"Shoot," Frost replied, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of transparency.

"Blake told me that you came to Remnant through a portal, and that there's a whole other world on the other side of that portal," Ruby explained, her expression slowly falling back to a near-neutral. Blake figured she'd be a bit nervous about questioning Frost, given the situation around him, but so far the strange man seemed utterly unfazed by the way this question was going. "So… a few of our friends were in the woods where we found you, and we think they went into a portal… to Earth. Do you think our friends are...okay? We don't know anything about Earth, and neither do they, so I don't know if it's anything like here."

"Well," Frost began, "for starters- we don't have Grimm, and nothing on our planet has anything like you guys' weird superpowers-slash-healing factor, so you've got the corner on physical stuff. When I left, at least, our tech was years behind you guys. We kinda threw melee weapons off, as well, just focused on making bigger and bigger guns. Other than that, other than the whole 'alien invasion' thing, I think they might be alright."

"Well, about that… we're going to try and go if another portal shows up." Ruby explained. "Would you be willing to… maybe help?"

Frost seemed shocked that Ruby would ask him to help her after what had happened previously. To be fair, Blake knew firsthand that Ruby outright refused to hold grudges. You could slap her in the face and the next day, she'd be back to treating you like a friend. She was innocent, far too trusting, and opening their plans to a complete stranger, but to Ruby's credit Frost didn't seem like an intentionally malicious being. In fact, when he wasn't psychopathically trying to murder Blake, he seemed outright _banal._

"Well, I did say I was gonna help if I could," Frost answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't know if this escapade of yours has teacher's approval or not, but hell, what's the harm? What would you want me to do?"

"We don't know anything about Earth. No places, no people, no nothing. We might need a guide," Ruby explained, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Blake could tell that she was thrilled to actually be making progress in finding their friends. "Would you be willing to come with us?"

Frost nodded. "I'll need a weapon. Earth's not as dangerous to you as you might think it is, but for me, it's a big risk. I'll need to be able to defend myself."

"We can get you a weapon," Blake assured him. "That's no trouble at all. Do you have a preference?"

"Shotguns. The biggest, meanest shotgun you can find," came the immediate answer. Frost seemed to know what he liked pretty well. "I had a satellite phone and a GPS in my gear, don't know what Goodwitch did with them, all I know is that they're still here. I'll need both of those to get us a location when we get boots on the ground. But most importantly… we're gonna need a portal. That's the hard part."

"Not as hard as you think, actually!" Ruby stated. "We've got cameras all over the woods! If a portal opens, we'll see it!"

"Yeah, if it opens again. I don't know if it will open in the same place four times. It dropped me, then picked up your friends recently, then picked up a snake man. That's three psionic portals in one location in the space of two years, with two back to back. Gonna take a lot of luck to make that happen." Frost frowned, rubbing his injured forearm pensively. "Worst part is, there's nothing you can do to make it happen on this end. We'll just be waiting for it to open, and even when we get over there, we'll have to wait for it to happen a second time to get you all out of there."

"We'll stay on Earth as long as we have to, so long as we find our friends," Ruby replied. "We're not worried about a little bit of waiting."

Frost nodded, but he still didn't look exactly optimistic. "Well, Ruby, I hate to break it to you, but… you're probably gonna be waiting a while before we even see a portal." 

"So, like, you're telling me that this thing can create, like, portals? Out of thin air?" Melanie asked, skeptical as ever. "I'm calling BS."

"Yeah, sounds like a hard sell to me," Moviy muttered, looking at the creature in question. Junior had to admit, he wouldn't have believed it either, if the thing hadn't done it right in front of him. But even while half-Grimm'ed up, it seemed to have enough presence of mind to attempt an escape, and Cinder'd been pretty adamant that wasn't a side effect of her… _unique_ treatment of the creature.

"Your boss can tell you as much," Cinder replied, matter-of-fact as she stared down the beast. Its pale and red coloration had now become a deathly off-white and black pallor, yet it retained every bit of the coiled strength and massive physique it had displayed back in the forest.

Cinder had a very strange taste in pets.

"She is nearly ready," Cinder stated, running a palm down the face of the creature, seemingly relishing the discomfort she was causing the thing. "We'll give her a little test run soon."

"I pity the poor son of a bitch this thing is getting 'tested' on." Moviy looked to Junior, apprehension in his eyes. While Moviy was a loyal foot soldier, Junior didn't hold such doubts against him. Hell, he was having a few of his own right about now. Not that he hadn't had his reservations previously- especially when he got clued in on the plan. Gods above, the plan…

Part of him hoped it didn't succeed. Sadly, he needed the money. The club was barely breaking even now, and even with all his leverage over the city, his enterprises were starting to cut so deep into his profits that you couldn't even call them profits. Cinder was offering him a stack of lien bigger than he'd ever seen in his life, and then some.

She'd better make this worth it for him. Keeping a goddamn monster in his basement was not at all written anywhere in the agreement.

"So, what about the rest?" Junior asked. "Is Bullshit still on board?"

"The White Fang contingent will support us, or they will die, they already know where the cards are on the table," Cinder replied. "Roman is still working on the Atlas angle, but my associates will have the program ready for us soon. As for infiltration, well, we've already managed to get our names on the board. So long as we are not discovered by that foreign interloper of yours, we will be fine." The 'interloper' comment was directed with a pointed stare at Moviy.

"Hey, he was a good-looking guy who seemed down on his luck!" Moviy protested. "I doubt he wants any trouble, I mean, you LOOKED at him. He won't be a problem, trust me."

"He had better not be. Neither I nor my mistress will be pleased if your _libido_ ends up compromising our operation."

"My _libido_ is perfectly in check, bitch." Moviy narrowed his eyes and cocked his hip, attempting his very best to look unintimidated by Cinder's display. Junior knew the DJ well- he wasn't doing a good job of it. He looked like he was about to piss himself.

Cinder rolled her eyes, before turning to Junior. "Hei, would you mind accompanying me? I want you, Torchwick, and Taurus for a little 'meeting' of sorts."

Junior very, very much minded, but wouldn't dare voice as much. Cinder seemed the kind of person to answer most objections with a knife in the back.

It didn't take long for them to find Torchwick, but they had to leave the city proper to find Adam Taurus. The Faunus revolutionary had staked out a camp a fair distance outside of the city of Vale proper, and had Cinder not known the way, Junior doubted they'd have ever found their way there. It was at least two hours journey out of the city alone, in one of Junior's private vehicles no less - vehicles designed to get from point A to point B as fast as possible, as quietly as possible.

Adam had set up a large tent as his command center, and when Junior, Cinder, and Torchwick entered, they found the White Fang commander brooding over a large table in the center of it, a large man with a chainsaw at his side. Not exactly the most… welcoming bunch.

"Adam," Cinder greeted him. "Thank you for your hospitality, as usual."

Adam merely let out a furious exhale, his nostrils flaring like his Faunus namesake as he leaned back in his seat. He was young, much younger than Junior expected him to be. Probably not much older than Goldie. The mask was a nice touch, too- outrageous, edgy, and made the guy look like he was desperately trying to compensate for some perceived weakness.

"Alright, gentlemen, sit down," Cinder ordered. "I'll have my associates on the line shortly."

Torchwick did as requested, lounging with his feet on the table, while Junior did all he could to squeeze into the very, VERY small chairs and attempt to act like he was comfortable. Meanwhile, Cinder tinkered with her Scroll. Once she got what she wanted, she stood it up beside her on the table, facing in such a way that all but Cinder were visible to the camera. Finally, an answer from the other end- a distorted, garbled, and booming bass voice, the stilted syntax indicating some sort of program to protect the identity of its owner.

 **"Miss Fall. I have received the data you have collected from Subject Beta. It will be invaluable in my further research."**

"Consider it a favor, and leave it at that," Cinder replied, turning her attention away from the Scroll. "Now, for the plans. Are we still in motion?"

 **"Doctor Watts is hard at work on the CCT Worm, while I have co-opted Dr. Merlot's research for possible use for Plan Cerberus."**

"I'm collecting all the dust I can, darling. There's gonna be a hole in the wall the size of a bullhead when we're done with it," Roman added with a smirk.

"The White Fang continue to uphold their end of the bargain," Adam stated, folding his arms. "We'll see if you humans keep yours."

Junior quietly adjusted his tie before speaking up. "I have… more information. Beacon Academy is planning its Spring Formal, as you all probably know. With the missing students, security is going to be a lot tighter- it's gonna be harder to get you in, but so long as your cover isn't blown, you'll be fine."

"Speaking of our cover, Hei…" Cinder interrupted. "...what of the newest Earth resident?"

"Records state that Eric Frost has been mostly kicked around various districts of the City of Vale, but was recently cleared of all crimes and misdemeanors by none other than Headmaster Ozpin himself. His place of residence? Currently listed as Beacon Academy." Junior sighed, and cracked his knuckles. "I doubt he saw anything suspicious, but if he were to run in on another one of our operations, we might have trouble."

"If he runs in on another one of our operations," Torchwick started with a twirl of his cane, before slamming it against the table emphatically, "Ozpin won't have enough of him to put into a SHOEBOX."

 **"Pardon, Cinder. Did you say… Earth Resident?"**

"Yes. There have been two recent arrivals from Earth- Ezekiel Collins and Eric Frost," Cinder replied.

 **"Ezekiel Collins is a powerful psionic. Where is he?"**

"Gone," Junior stated. "He jumped through a portal."

 **"Good. He would be a significant obstacle to your plans. If this Frost is at Beacon Academy, outright murder would draw suspicion. Simply take your operations underground. Keep the outsiders in the dark, and your subordinates on a need to know basis. Now, I must go- there is important research needing to be done."**

"Thank you for your time, Doctor." Cinder smiled, and turned off her Scroll. "With that, I believe we've hit all the major notes for this meeting… right, I almost forgot. Junior, don't you have some news for Adam?"

Of _course_ he did. Adam was an obsessive fucking freak who had demanded one specific piece of information above everything else, and the worst part about it was that Junior was practically obligated to give it to him at this point. Junior would normally say something about strange bedfellows or something of the like, but to call Adam a 'bedfellow' or a 'fellow' of any kind curdled his blood.

"We can confirm that Blake Belladonna attends Beacon Academy," Junior stated. "My little helpers have seen her accompanying a few other students around campus town."

Adam's normally taciturn and sour expression slowly morphed into an unsettling grin. 


	19. Chapter 19

_The day after Operation: Touchdown_

Roderick Braddock normally didn't go to the Armory when he wasn't kitting up for duty. Being in the Armory during your down time meant that it was about to stop being your down time, because Adam or Wolf Mother was gonna be on your ass in about ten seconds giving you something to do, but right now, both of them were on assignment.

So now Roderick found himself in the armory with Jerry Hall, of all people. Jerry had discarded his jumpsuit, and was instead wearing a pair of old jeans and a plain grey shirt, exposing the panorama of ink on his arms and neck, normally hidden by his uniform's sleeves and collar. He'd remembered hearing something from one of his co-stars about how artists saw _everything_ as a canvas, and it seemed like Jerry subscribed to that. He was sitting down with an airbrush kit, 3D printed stencils, and a few actual paint buckets and brushes. In front of him, on large stands, were several of the new Predator uniforms. Some had full sleeves, some long sleeves, some had large shoulder and elbow guards, while others were more streamlined. Overall, the new suits were ugly- solid grey, bulky, and probably not very comfortable. Still, Roderick wouldn't complain too much. ADVENT guys could take quite a few bullets, and this new armor was made from a combination of alien alloys and Earth metals similar to ADVENT armor. That kind of protection would have been useful. Would have saved a lot of people a lot of heartache (and Jane a bullet through the chest).

Roderick couldn't help but be drawn to Jerry's work- a couple of suits hung off to the side, the paint drying off as Jerry moved on to the others. One was solid red, with a ring of hearts on the left breast, and a raised fist on the right. Another had a grey and black camouflage pattern, with a blue emblem on the center of the chestplates- a knife passing through a triangle, the left side of said triangle tapering into a lightning bolt.

"Hey!" Roderick called out, drawing the medic's attention. "They got you busy?"

Jerry stopped his work for the moment, leaving a suit half-finished. The camo patterns evidently weren't his work- some of the armors just came with them. This particular uniform had no sleeves, just the elbow guards and bracers, with the massive shoulder guards to match the others. So far, he seemed to be painting it some sort of minty green, with a more brownish tint for the camo burst.

The medic turned to look at him, already smiling at the prospect of seeing a familiar face. Roderick always liked being around Jerry- the man was constantly upbeat in spite of their situation, and never started any trouble on the boat. It certainly didn't hurt that he was a damn fine doctor, too, for a guy who never finished medical school. Evidently, he'd been planning to become a full time EMT, and just taught himself through experience anything he didn't already know. Roddy was just glad he got to benefit from that experience.

"Hey, buddy!" Jerry replied, positively beaming as he set down his airbrush and paints. His fingers were stained red, brown, green, and blue, so he wasn't exactly throwing his hands out for a shake, but he did extend a fist to Roddy, who casually bumped it as he went to closer examine Jerry. The former football player-turned-actor knew what it was like to have to work hurt-you didn't spend 6 years on the gridiron without taking a few bruises and breaks- and certainly didn't want Jerry putting himself on the bench for longer out of some crooked sense of responsibility. Thankfully, Jerry seemed to be healing remarkably well. There would be a scar, though: long and wide but shallow, running into his hairline from just above his eyebrow. It wasn't so bad- it took away a bit from Jerry's usual babyface look. The way he'd worn his hair hid it a bit, as well, letting the bangs down over his forehead while just letting everything else go where it may seemed to suit him.

"So, you're just… painting armor?" Roderick inquired, kneeling down to Jerry's level as he examined his work further. The closer he got, the better it looked- Jerry seemed to have a knack for what he did.

"Some of it, yeah. The presses do have a paint function, so some of the guys are just going with machined armor, but a few of the guys wanted a more 'personal' touch," Jerry explained, "so they came to me. Plus, I haven't really done much with a brush since I got here. Mostly just pencil work and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha," Roderick replied, nodding along. "Who all are you makin' 'em for?"

Jerry pulled his latest project back to him. "I just finished Lawrence's and Soph's. Working on Murphy's right now, then I've got Alex, Joseph, Declan, K3, Tomo, Jack, you, and Cedric. Plus, I'm making some for the kids."

Roderick appreciated the thought of Jerry painting up a suit for him, but that last part caught him off guard. "You think the kids will wear them?"

"They may not have liked the kevlar suits when they wore them out in the field, but I highly doubt any of them would be able to survive a head on engagement. Have you seen their outfits? Jaune and Pyrrha are the only ones with any armor to speak of, and Pyrrha…" Jerry trailed off, slowly lifting a hand and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Pyrrha…"

"What about Pyrrha?" Roderick asked, raising a brow.

"Roderick, they're supposed to be like, warriors in training, right? You know, trained to fight against monsters and the forces of evil and other weird stuff like that?"

"Yeah…"

Jerry looked up at Roderick with a look of exasperation. "Pyrrha's 'armor' is a corset with a cleavage window."

Roderick didn't know how this didn't really register in his mind until now, but now that he was really thinking about it, the idea of someone going into a gunfight wearing a corset was both horrifically irresponsible, and unintentionally hilarious. He couldn't help but let out a little wheeze-laugh, one he was barely able to suppress. "You're fucking right, ohhhh my god! That's just… what the fuck, man?"

"I know!" Jerry exclaimed, throwing out his arms. "It's like she's got a huge fucking neon sign pinned to her chest saying 'Aim here, ADVENT! Kill me!'"

Roderick's wheezing only intensified, but Jerry wasn't about to stop. The medic slammed his right fist into his now outstretched left palm, a unique combination of concern, annoyance, and mirth on his face all at once creating a sort of smile mixed with a blank, unsteady stare. "And Nora's top is not only cloth, it has a KEYHOLE! And Ren? He's wearing a _SASH!_ "

"Dude looks like he stepped off the set of a fucking Kung Fu flick, dude! _**Wa-TAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**_ "

Now Jerry was starting to laugh, covering his eyes with his hands and hunching over almost to his knees. "It's some freakin' anime BS, dude, like, what the heck!?"

"And you know," Roderick said, picking up where Jerry left off, "Jaune's got some armor and stuff, but, dude, dude, dude. He just slapped on two shoulder plates, and a couple of slabs on the front and back, and just thought to himself 'Well, golly gee, I sure do hope nobody aims for my legs!'"

"Man, if they didn't have some superpowers or whatever this Aura stuff is, they'd be dead in about a half minute," Jerry continued, rubbing his eyes as his laughter slowly died down. "They're good people, though, questionable fashion sense aside. That's why I got them suits. I want them getting home to their friends and family in one piece, you know. Same as all of us."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about getting me back to my family, alright?" Roderick said. He'd made his marital and familial woes a regular part of his comedic routine.

"We're only sending you back to your wife so you can kill her, Roderick. You're saving the Earth, I'm sure nobody will question an errant grenade," Jerry assured him. The way he said it, it almost didn't sound like he was joking.

"I'm not gonna lie, Jerry, the way you said that is going to give me nightmares for the rest of the week. You are one sick fuck, deep down."

"Nah," Jerry assured him with a smile. "I'm only joking. You know me, I'm not really great with the whole killing thing."

"Bull. Mother. Fucking. Shit." Roderick replied, shaking his head. "I've seen the way you flash on those ADVENT motherfuckers, dude, it's scary."

"Well, ADVENT aren't people, so when you think about it that way," Jerry said, the smile very rapidly leaving his face as he grabbed his airbrush and went back to his work, "it gets a little easier. That's why I really, really don't like the Skirmishers."

Roderick was floored by how sudden and… _un-Jerry-like_ that statement was. Compassionate, concerned Jerry thought of ADVENT as less than human beings. _I kinda feel just a little bit disturbed._

"Why's that?" Roderick asked.

"Because they're ADVENT who act like people," Jerry answered matter-of-factly.

" _ **Attention- Skyranger is making final approach to Avenger. Medical staff, report to the Hangar Bay. Repeat- Medical staff, report to the hangar bay,"**_ blared the PA, startling Roderick and Jerry alike, although Jerry reacted much more quickly, standing up and pushing his work materials off to a corner of the room effortlessly.

"Roddy, grab my brushes and paint."

Roderick quickly complied, grabbing the airbrushes and paint and dragging them over to the corner by the armor. Jerry was already on his way to the staircase- he wasn't gonna wait for the hangar doors to open under the Skyranger, even if the elevator platform was already lifting up to meet the roof of the Avenger. Roderick didn't really have a choice, did he? He followed as fast as he could. His leg was still giving him a bit of guff, but he didn't have too much trouble keeping pace.

"Who do you think are the WIAs?" Roderick called up the stairs.

Jerry didn't even look back at him to answer. "No idea, a lot of things could have gone wrong in a lot of different ways on both of the ops, especially Touchdown. They made Murphy spring the trap early because Adam screwed up!"

"How did he screw up?"

"I dunno!"

Soon both men were on the deck, having beaten the medical team by a good two minutes, by Roderick's estimation, and the Skyranger was already on final approach. The middling spring breeze gave Roderick a bit of a sting in the eye, and soon the Skyranger's whipping tornado of turbulence threatened to blow him over. The engines were at full power. Someone was hurt _bad_.

Jerry said as much. "They came in hot and fast. Someone's hurt, and hurt bad."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Roderick agreed. He could hear the med team making their way up, but he knew they wouldn't dare get between Jerry and his patients.

The Skyranger landed, and the door immediately began to open. Murphy and Ren were already standing by the door, Nora in between them with a 'dead fish' look in her eye and basically being dragged into step with them as they got down. Jerry was on the scene like a shot from a gun, and Roderick followed him, partly to help, partly out of his own sense of concern. He didn't see any blood, but that wasn't how someone healthy looked.

"How many wounded?" Jerry asked, immediately transitioning into a cool, clinical tone of voice.

"This 'un, Adam, and Pyrrha all got tore up a bit. Nora's gotten the worst of it, took a shock from an ADVENT bio-recognition scanner," Murphy explained.

Jerry blanched, looking down at the girl. Roderick had seen enough Resistance guys making the mistake of trying to fire ADVENT weapons to know what happens when you do that. Even if Nora's 'Semblance' as she called it was to absorb electricity…

"She should be dead," Roderick stated. "This Semblance shit is hardcore."

"Yeah, well, it didn't completely work!" Murphy stated, handing off his side of Nora to the waiting Jerry. Ren didn't dare let go, and from the look the medic and the young man gave each other, Jerry wasn't going to force him to. Still, he had two other patients to worry about, and both Jerry and Roderick turned their eyes to the Skyranger. Adam came down first, looking mostly unharmed.

"Took a nick to the side, it's nothing!" he stated, immediately power walking past them to the stairs, with Pyrrha attempting to keep pace with him, a look on her face that screamed something between bloody murder and a cold, distant serenity. Roderick being who he was, he immediately stepped in the way.

"What'd he do this time?" Roderick asked, trying to be as tactful as he could in this situation. He examined Pyrrha, and noticed she wasn't in any position to be squaring up with Menace Team's CO. She had a rather large, nasty wound in her shoulder, and her hip had taken a grisly gashing, as well.

"It's none of your concern," Pyrrha stated, failing miserably at concealing her anger. Sure, her voice was low, even, and measured, but Roderick knew that just because you were pissed off didn't make you loud. Just the way she walked like she hadn't had a chunk blown out of her arm gave it away.

"I'll tell you what's my concern, Pyrrha, is that you've got way too many holes in you," Roderick replied, folding his arms. "You can take his ass to the mat later. For now, you're going with Nora to the infirmary. If you wanna keep at Adam, you're gonna have to get through me, and I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly a pushover."

Pyrrha glared at him, but didn't make any sort of objection. Jaune walked up behind her, concern etched deep into his features as he looked at Roderick, then Pyrrha, then over at Nora. Jerry and Ren had picked her up and were currently carrying her to the stairway.

"You guys stuck your neck out for me and mine," Roderick continued, letting his arms drop to his side. "I'm grateful for that. Which is why I want you guys 100 percent before you go doing some stupid shit I'll have to bail you out of."

Pyrrha, again, didn't say anything, just kept glaring.

"Um, Pyrrha?" Jaune finally spoke up. "It's fine. Go get checked out. Please."

Pyrrha shut her eyes, and let out a deep, shaky exhale.

"Fine."

* * *

By the time Jerry and Ren had gotten Nora down to the infirmary, it seemed that the medic was already in an entirely professional mindset. Within 30 seconds of entering the room, he had Nora in a bed, was hooking her up to monitors and life support mechanisms in the event of the worst case scenario, and was already examining her with the help of his drone.

"Looks like some kind of direct brain trauma," Jerry stated, looking at the screen on the back of his drone, then back at Nora again. "Not blunt force, though, something else. You said her Semblance is to absorb electricity?"

"Yes," Ren replied. His voice didn't crack at all, that would imply he didn't have his emotions under control.

 _Nora will be fine. She has to be fine. She will be fine._

"Well, I'm guessing since your Semblances aren't working properly, she dipped a little too far into the sauce and fried her brain. Looks like some damage to the memory and motor control centers, but nothing crippling… at least, not anything that I can notice immediately. On the exterior end, multiple flash burns on the hands and forearms, high-voltage burns to the hands and wrist area… she's gonna be in a lot of pain, but the good news is, she's gonna be fine." Jerry dismissed his drone to go fly off to another corner of the room. "Nothing lethal. Recovery's gonna be a painful process if Assassin fucks up their operation, or if we're wrong about our 'Aura equals Psionics' theory."

Ren hoped, for Nora's sake, that said theory was correct. Without her aura, recovery would indeed likely take weeks, if not months. "How bad is the brain damage?" he asked. Jerry had said it wasn't crippling, but didn't go into much regarding the effects.

"She's probably gonna have some minor retrograde amnesia," Jerry explained, taking out his PDA and scribbling down some notes with a stylus. "Definitely won't remember getting stunned, and probably won't remember ninety percent of what's happened since you guys got here, if not a little bit further back. She'll definitely remember you guys, though, and anything that happened further back than, say, two or three months. Don't worry, she's still gonna be the same Nora, just a little… banged up."

Ren allowed himself the slightest sigh of relief as the door opened behind him. Turning his attention to the sound, he saw Murphy, Pyrrha, Jaune, and Roderick all piled in by the door. Pyrrha was ushered in first, and Jerry's eyes immediately went to her injuries.

"Man, Big Red, you are just the _unluckiest_ person I know, huh?" the medic asked, snapping his fingers and motioning for her to come over to another bed across from Nora's. "Sit, sit, sit, I'm a busy man and I don't have time to screw around. Corset off."

"Excuse me?" Pyrrha asked, incredulous.

"How am I supposed to dress that nice little blast to your side if I can't get at it through your combat 'armor'?" There were noticeable 'verbal air quotes' around that part. "At least loosen it up so that I can get under it. You need to get some actual armor before you start casually getting shot."

Pyrrha seemed a bit taken aback that Jerry was so casual about both attending to her injuries, and criticizing her. To be fair, from what Ren had noticed very few people criticized Pyrrha about _anything._ Not that she was perfect, or saw herself that way, mind, but people tended to focus on what she did right more than what she did wrong. The perks of being a celebrity, he supposed.

"While you guys get your shit sorted, I'm gonna go see what's got Adam's britches in a twist," Roderick spoke up, waving off Jerry and Murphy and heading right back out the door. Murphy twisted his massive frame to allow Roderick to squeeze through, before coming in himself.

"She gonna be alright, Corporal?" he asked.

"Which one?" Jerry asked.

"Both, I guess."

"I'll be fine," Pyrrha contributed. "Just a few scratches."

"'Just a few scratches'!" Jerry put on a mocking falsetto and looked up from the cabinet he was currently rifling through. "Acting like you didn't just get shot."

"I've been beaten around before, this isn't anything new," Pyrrha assured him.

"Yeah, this is the first time you didn't have your 'get out of jail free card' to get you out of it, though," Jerry countered. "Now you gotta rely on good old-fashioned home medicine."

"What about Nora?" Murphy's attention was now turned to the convalescing ginger. He looked far more concerned than Ren would have expected him to, given the circumstances. It's not like he and JNPR had any sort of connection.

"She'll need some time to recover, but she'll be fine. Like I just told the rest of the kids, if me and Alex are right about the whole Aura thing, well, she'll be back up and kicking in no time at all. Speaking of that, when are they leaving for their op?"

"Tomorrow morning," Murphy replied. "We'll know then."

Ren breathed a sigh of relief, and Jaune visibly eased too. Murphy turned to look at Jaune first.

"You notice anything different during the day tomorrow, you tell Jerry or me immediately," he ordered. "Once you're back fighting fit, you'll be at a lot less risk until we find a way to get you home."

"Can do." Jaune's attention was still on Nora and Pyrrha, the latter of whom had relented and loosened her top enough for Jerry to get under it and start disinfecting the wound.

"So, you ran into the Chosen _again_ , I hear?" Jerry asked.

"I don't know what the Chosen is, or are, but I suppose that's what that _thing_ was," Pyrrha answered with a scowl. "It's much tougher than what we've faced already, since arriving here."

"Aye. That 'thing' beat the unholy hell out of Menace a couple of days ago, and yet you and Adam managed to kill it," Murphy stated, folding his arms and leaning back up against the doorway. "You lot are really something, you know."

Jaune's cheeks flushed, and the blonde gave an uneasy shrug. "Well, we did make a promise. We said we'd help."

"And help you did," Jerry butted in, looking up from his work as he went to grab some bandages. "With a little bit of help from you four, we killed the Chosen AND got Pratal Mox back on board, meaning the Skirmishers are gonna be a lot more inclined to help us from here on out. You four are officially in my good books right about now."

"Oath you are," Murphy agreed, now turning to Ren. "You and Nora kept me out of a serious spot of trouble out there. Sorry she ended up sufferin' for it."

"I'm sure that if she were coherent right now she wouldn't have any regrets," Ren attempted to assure him. The emotional readings he was getting off of Murphy belied an intense guilt. Far too intense for a simple stranger he'd met around a week ago to have. Either Murphy was an extremely empathetic person, or there was something else going on behind the scenes.

Ren wasn't exactly going to _ask_ , but he'd be paying a bit of attention.

Jerry finished dressing Pyrrha's wounds, moving to her injured hand. "Unless that Aura stuff does miracles," he said, somewhat amused, "you're gonna have a wicked scar. You got cut down to the bone- might need to break out the stitches."

* * *

Grace was both worried sick and overjoyed at once, two emotions that she didn't know could possibly coexist.

The Chosen was gone. Dead. No longer in the picture, thanks to Pyrrha, Adam, and Jaune. Pratal Mox was in safe hands back on the Avenger, hopefully getting checked out soon- she'd heard he refused treatment when the med crew got to him.

At the same time, she'd been watching the cameras on the Avenger. Although Adam seemed to take Murphy's advice to heart, it was obvious that the degradation of his nerves was turning irritability into a hair trigger rage. Hell, he even had a reason to be mad this time. She had Firebrand's feed- Jaune didn't even _try_ to fight the Chosen when it tailed them. He'd panicked.

 _'Maybe I should talk to the kid, or get one of the men to,'_ she thought idly, but she knew that was the least of her worries. Two of her team leads were cracking.

Adam's faults were obvious, but Murphy was a much more subtle, emotional man. An odd thing to think about, really. The just under six foot tall, wiry Welshman was the mean-spirited, vicious and angry wildcat of a man, while the six-six Australian brute was a vulnerable, soft-centered empath. She'd read his file, she had one on every single man and woman on the Avenger, save for JNPR. What Murphy went through was an all too common story among Resistance leadership- lost friends, lost family, lost purpose.

No man should have to bury both of his children before they even turn 18, but that was the world they lived in. The world they still live in.

Grace knew Murphy would take Nora's injury personally, and frankly she was worried too. Still, worrying could only do so much. Jerry was an intelligent young man. A disturbingly calm and friendly man for one of his… _persuasions_ , but an intelligent young man nonetheless, with a gift for helping people. Nora was in the best hands Grace could find for her, and yet Grace still knew that Murphy was projecting an aura of poise and rock-solid stability while internally, he blamed himself for whatever happened in the field and wracked his brain for things he could have done differently.

She knew the feeling well. Even the most seemingly insignificant people on the ship meant a great deal to her. She didn't even think anyone other than Jerry and Assassin team commented on Corporal Duplessis biting the dust when the Avenger went down, or about the rookie, Brady. Wade had been with them since the beginning- he'd been her first pick to go on Gatecrasher, and for all his inexperience, Brady was a martyr for the cause. If Grace told him that blowing his own brains out would even slightly advance XCOM's chances, he'd have asked for a gun.

And now she had the responsibility for these four _children_ , and came oh-so-close to failing on two separate occasions in the same day. Delegating to Bradford wasn't going to work anymore.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tygan's entry. She'd called him up to discuss the matter of the kids directly. The good doctor had a clipboard in hand and Corporal Richard following him.

"Richard, Philippe," she greeted them.

"Commandant," Phil replied.

"Commander," Tygan began, "You asked for the results of Project: SPARTA. I believe a practical demonstration may be in order. If you would direct your attention to the Corporal."

Grace pivoted on one foot, her body now facing the wall as she looked over at Phil, who was already dressed for combat in the new Predator armor. The stuff was striking, and not just because of Phil's preferred bright orange hazard paint. It was big. Bulky. Almost obtuse. It was definitely some serious protection- reminded her of the Carapace Armor Shen had designed for the men back in the day, only less round.

"After studying Mr. Arc's shield and sword, we noted a peculiar anomaly in the kite shield design- the spine of the shield was hollow, to allow Jaune to sheathe his blade inside of it. The shield would then compact around the blade, forming a fully functional sheath that rests on the hip, if a bit heavily. Co-opting the mechanisms used in this design, Chief Engineer Shen and I have developed the Kinetic Barrier."

Grace watched as Phil flicked his thumb against the back of a small trigger that now rested in his hand, threw his forearm forward, then pulled the trigger The bulky apparatus on the arm plate loudly **clanked** as it extended on all four sides, then extended again, and again, and so on, until the shield ran nearly up to Phil's head. Phil was a huge man. This was certainly no small shield. At least the size of an old-world riot shield. When Phil hunched slightly, it covered everything from his head to just past the knee.

"Though the design is cumbersome at such a weight, better understanding of the alien alloys and further research into Project (insert EXO suit project name here) may yield a more lightweight but equally efficient design," Tygan explained, motioning to Phil's arm. "The Kinetic Barrier deploys via an alien-alloy arm brace, attached directly to the armor system via replacing the standard vambrace. Although it is extremely heavy, weighing approximately 25 pounds, our Grenadiers will likely be able to bear the weight, given their extremely rigorous training in order to bear their current operational loadout. "

"How tough is it?" Grace asked, turning her attention fully to Phil.

"I've been shot with every weapon on this ship, Commandant," Phil answered with the slightest of smirks. "C'est un bouclier difficile. It's tough."

Grace smiled back at him, and nodded. "You'll have the perfect opportunity to test it."

"That is… not all, Commander," Tygan interrupted, turning towards the shield-wielder. "Corporal Richard posited an interesting idea, regarding the latest inroad on the ADVENT Blacksite."

"I can speak English, but some words are beyond my grasp. Doctor Tygan agreed to help me."

Grace nodded. "So, what's your idea, big man?" Many thought Phil was stupid, from hearing the dull, booming bass of his voice or his halting, heavily-accented English, but Grace knew better. Hell, if the man didn't defer to Sergeant Duvalier about everything, she'd have put HIM in command of Assassin instead. If he had something to say about an op, she wanted to hear it.

"When Assassin team disables the Psionic Inhibitor, many believe that the children will gain their… comment appelles-tu cela, err…"

"Their 'Semblances'?" Tygan asked.

"Their bullshit superpowers?" Grace suggested helpfully in the same instant.

"Oui, their bullshit superpowers. If they get them back, we should bring them to attack the 'Black Site'. The red-haired girl will ensure we don't need access codes or passwords, since she can just rip the doors off, or perhaps use her magnetic power to open the doors internally."

"Good idea, Phil, good idea." Grace pulled her laptop to her, and started typing. "We'll have to wait for at least Pyrrha to be back at 100 percent before we spring the operation, then."

"Also. I believe that rotating teams is… a bad idea, for the Black Site mission. There are members of Stalker and Hitman who know more about it than most."

"Oh?" For someone who kept a rigorous record of what her troops had been up to, this caught Grace unawares. She knew Van Pey had some… _experience_ involving the blacksite, hence why she had Wolf Mother get Stalker into fighting shape, but THIS was interesting. She hadn't been informed that anyone on Hitman knew the area.

"Van Pey and Braddock, Commandant. They were with a small resistance group that attacked it three years ago."

" _Roderick Braddock_ attacked an ADVENT Blacksite?" Grace asked, incredulous. Roderick's word, and the report, both said that he only joined as recently as Operation: Gatecrasher. There was…

That son of a bitch.

Grabbing the microphone attached to the PA system, she tried her damnedest to keep her voice level. "Corporal Braddock, report to the Commander's quarters immediately." With that done, she turned back to Tygan and Phil. "Thanks, you two. You're free to go."

"Goodbye."

"Thank you, Commander. Corporal Richard, if you would follow me. I believe Shen wanted your input regarding the new weapons platform."

With that, Phil and Tygan exited the room, leaving Grace to stew. She'd known Roderick had a very unlikely story. He had a cushy, secure lifestyle before joining XCOM, kinda like Alexios. Unlike Alexios, though, he never did anything stupid and got burnt- Roderick stayed above the board until just recently, and even now ADVENT still considered him a 'missing person', not a criminal. Roderick's disguise had helped with that, certainly, but he'd made it sound like he only just got the wild lark to resist. It wasn't that she particularly cared when he joined up- it was the principle of lying to your commanding officer. XCOM was barely a military unit, but there were some things you just didn't do.

Roderick entered maybe five minutes after Tygan left, and Grace noticed that the aforementioned disguise was pretty much gone now. He'd shaved his beard, leaving only the naturally ashy black stubble the gridiron standout-turned-Hollywood idol had worn for almost his entire career, and his hair was shorn again, with only the very ends holding the slightest blonde tint, fading into that same black. Had he decided he didn't want to be an infiltrator anymore? Not that Grace cared, Elena was far better at getting in and out quietly than Roderick would ever be.

"So, Roderick, just how long did you intend to keep lying to me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that depends on exactly WHAT lie you're talking about, because that could mean anything from me saying I DIDN'T get Bradford the Grey Goose he wanted to me telling you-" Roderick was smiling. _Smiling_ about this whole situation.

"You know about the ADVENT Blacksite. Don't bullshit me."

"I'm not bullshitting you." Roderick casually shrugged, and waved his hand dismissively. "You just never asked."

"Do you not think that this might be relevant information, considering we're gonna be hitting the place anyway?"

"... to be fair, I assumed you were sending Hitman anyway, so I was gonna wait and tell the team when we got in the field," Roderick admitted.

"And WHY would you wait that long without telling me?" Grace asked, her frustration mounting with every single second that Roderick acted like this wasn't a big deal.

"Because… um…"

Grace tapped her foot impatiently, while Roderick just gave a much more lame attempt at his previous smile and shrunk in slightly.

"Dramatic effect?" Roderick offered, his pitch rising steadily between syllables.

Dramatic. Effect.

"Roderick."

"Yes, 'm?"

"I don't even know what to say to that. That is the stupidest, most infantile excuse I have ever heard in my life, and I don't have any words for it."

"Totally understandable."

Grace sighed, sitting down in her chair and grabbing a fistful of hair, trying to ground herself long enough to get a grip. She was tired of being out of the loop. Almost 30 years she'd been _trapped_ in a cage, unconscious, hooked to wires and cables and machines and forced to run training simulations for the ADVENT war machine, helping to destroy the same things she had fought to the last desperate breath to protect. She hated not having all the information, hated not knowing things, and hated when people lied to her. She knew that Roderick probably wasn't hiding anything that would be detrimental to the cause, but it still stung all the same. If she'd have known this, maybe they'd have been able to pinpoint the site faster- Roderick had a much better memory than Van Pey did.

"Is there anything else you aren't telling me, Roderick?" Grace asked, exasperated.

"Yeah. Quite a few things. None of 'em are really important in the grand scheme, but I like to keep things close to the vest," he replied.

"Why?"

"Do you think I survived, being who and what I am, by being open? I'm a celebrity. People _know_ my face. I had to go through disguises and identities like tissue paper to get this far, had to sell people out so that I'd see tomorrow, and done some really shitty, low-down things to survive. If you wanna know all of that? All you had to do, and all you have to do now is ask.

"Get out of my office."

Suddenly, like a wave, something crashed into the back of her head. Not like, the physical back of her head, but more of the figurative. Something was in her head, stopping her from saying anything else.

 _'This is the opportunity. Send the children, kill two birds with one stone. They go home, and you destroy the Blacksite.'_

 _What the hell? Who are you?_

 _'Who or what does not matter. Heed my counsel.'_

 _How the hell am I supposed to trust you? What are you doing in my head?_

 _'I have been here since the very beginning. Preparing you for what is to come.'_

 _Bullshit you are._

' _You are a brilliant tactician, but you cannot do this alone. I have been guiding you against my brothers and sisters since the day we came to your world. You and your people do not deserve to share in the fate we shall reap. You must trust me, Grace Cheng. If we do not stand together, we shall both be destroyed.'_

Roderick waved, and went to walk out the door. "Wait," Grace ordered.

Roderick stopped, and looked over his shoulder.

"I'm gonna send you, Van Pey, Richard, Sagole, and Murphy on the Blacksite Op. The kids, too," she explained. "Be ready to rock and roll in six days."

"You got it, Commander. You can count on me," Roderick replied with a casual salute, before leaving her office entirely.

 _Can I really count on him?_ Grace asked herself.

' _You can'_ , answered the voice in her head. _'Though he is a man of many secrets, his heart is the one thing he leaves open.'_

"How do you know all this shit?" Grace thought out loud, leaning back in her seat. She'd gone nuts. After 30 years of service to Earth and its people, Grace Cheng had finally lost her marbles and started hallucinating voices in the back of her head. Well, damn, she had a good run while it lasted.

 _'My brothers and sisters are stronger than I. But I am wiser.'_

Grace sighed once more, pressing her palms against her eyes and applying pressure until there were dozens of little dots of light popping in the black. "Okay… okay." Her hands fell into her lap, and Grace looked up at the ceiling. _I can't believe I'm talking to myself._ "Let's start from the beginning, then. What, and who, the hell are you?"


	20. Chapter 20

_Three days after the previous chapter's events_

Pyrrha wasn't sure if it was pride, concern for the safety of XCOM's Rangers, or a bit of both, but she certainly had her doubts about this impromptu 'training session'. As much as she wanted to pay her figurative dues and get things done, she wasn't at all fond of the idea of being put up as some paragon to a bunch of complete strangers.

Bradford had brought the four-time champion to the GTS, and gave her a run-down of the competition- pardon, her _trainees_. She'd asked for Jaune to be allowed to accompany her so he'd come along too. Hopefully he'd learn something from all this.

Roderick and Remi were the only ones with anything resembling any training with a sword prior to XCOM. Roderick 'did his own stunts' for a movie, while Remi was a well-regarded fencer at his primary school, winning national acclaim for his skills. Meanwhile, the rest of the rangers were a mixed bag. Fyodor Sidorov evidently had a natural talent for the blade, the same with Declan Delacroix. Others, like Kyle Keenan, Abel Szarabajka and Tomohiro Watanabe had no prior experience nor particular talent with the standard issue blade. If anything, it would be like starting over with Jaune all over again.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be fighting with Miló and Akoúo̱. Bradford stated he wanted a level playing field, and Pyrrha found such a request reasonable, if only for the sake of XCOM's men. They'd be using dulled practice blades. They were far weightier than Pyrrha's standard fare, but she would make do- she'd had to deal with similarly cumbersome weapons under her tutors' guidance.

The GTS was packed tight. Long as the room was, it was also narrow, so the mats on the floor for the purposes of the spar were practically wall to wall. On one side of the mats stood Bradford, herself, and Jaune, while on the other stood her trainees. Remi stood in the front, standing out rather prominently thanks to his position, the myriad of piercings and tattoos that marked him, and the long, frazzled stripe of hair that ran down to his back, completely shaved to either side. On either side of him stood two men, one tall with thinning brown hair and a thin beard, the other with a short goatee and a barely-kept combover and narrow, almost iron grey eyes. On that man's right stood Roderick, while another man with curly strawberry blonde hair and eyes the color of sapphire flanked the narrow-eyed man. Declan stood next to Roderick, idly twirling one of his axes in his off-hand. Finally, behind them all, in one corner of the room, stood a dark-haired woman with a fade cut, a tattoo of a wolf next to her right eye, and a snarl that seemed plastered to her face.

That was _probably_ the 'Wolf Mother' she was informed of by Bradford. Pyrrha wasn't certain, but she figured that was enough to make an educated guess.

"Alright, Rangers," Bradford began, "There's only so much I can teach you- I'm not a swordsman, never had any interest until it was me and a machete against a Sectoid in a barn on the Kansas/Missouri border. With that being said, recent events have sort of dropped a bit of a relief into my lap." The grizzled officer then motioned to Pyrrha. "For those of you who haven't already had the pleasure, this is Pyrrha Nikos. She's one of our four temporary guests from Remnant. Four-time Mistral Combat Tournament winner, which means she knows her way around a sword better than anyone on this boat that isn't named Remi Duvalier— at least in theory. Don't let the looks and the medical tape fool you- she's tough as nails, and she will beat your ass from the windows to the wall if you fool around. Jaune and I will be supervising to make sure no one gets hurt. Do I have a volunteer for first match?"

Pyrrha rolled her shoulders and bounced on the balls of her feet silently, trying to work the stiffness out. Her injuries weren't as severe as they looked, and her malfunctioning Aura still did a good job of minimizing the damage. Regardless, she had a lot on her mind going into this fight, not the least of these things being Nora.

Whatever happened to Nora terrified Pyrrha on a primal level that she would never have anticipated feeling in her life. The normally chipper, upbeat hellion that she called 'teammate' and 'friend' was a bit out of it when they jumped onto the Skyranger, but over the past two days, she'd degraded to almost catatonic. Her Aura wasn't healing any of the internal injuries, meaning that Nora's consciousness and motor control was less a bodily function and more of a bodily lottery. Seeing her friend like this horrified Pyrrha, and Ren's reactions were even worse—she could hear him pacing the floors at night, if he wasn't in the infirmary. Jerry didn't comment on it when he left Nora's side to eat or take care of other duties, but she could tell that both of them had their entire focus on Nora. Murphy wasn't doing too well, either. She'd heard him talking to Jerry, Adam, and Bradford about his feelings of culpability for 'what happened', and his mood had noticeably dampened. She'd seen him digging through his possessions, as well, often focusing on a framed photograph near his bedside, or a pocket watch. Pyrrha was curious as to what significance either of those items held to him, or what they had to do with his mood, but she wasn't a very nosy person. She'd leave him to his.

In the meantime, she had a fight to focus on. _No_ , she corrected herself. _A spar between peers. Albeit my 'peers' all range from indifferent to outright disdainful of me. I'm rather certain 'Wolf Mother' would like to rip my throat out with her teeth._

"Would anyone like to volunteer?" Bradford repeated, looking pointedly at Declan, who seemed raring to go. Before the axe-wielding loon could speak, though, the big man with the brown hair stepped forward.

"Central," he said, with a thick accent that reminded Pyrrha of some of the Atlesians she'd met, "I am not certain this is good idea."

"And why is that, Fyodor?" Bradford asked. The big one must be Fyodor Sidorov, then.

Chocolate-brown eyes shifted from Bradford to Pyrrha, and a frown crossed Fyodor's features. "She is… you know. Girl. Young girl. Young girl with an injury."

Well, Pyrrha had only just met Fyodor, but she wouldn't dare say as of yet that he didn't speak his mind.

"It sounds like you're either forfeiting or volunteering!" Roderick contributed helpfully. "Come on, Iron Man, show us your stuff!"

"I do not like that nickname, stop it."

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow, and had an idea. If no one would volunteer, she'd try and convince them to participate. The stick was effective, but the carrot was much more appealing. "'Iron Man', eh? That's an impressive epithet, sir. How did you get that one?"

Sidorov's frown remained, but his eyes went down to his waist. He lifted the hem of his shirt slowly, pulling it up to just under his pectorals to reveal a massive, wide gash from his hip up to the sternum, and past even that. Other scars, bullet wounds by the look of them, dotted his abdomen, while a rather severe burn marred the forearm of his left arm, which held up his shirt.

"I am hard to kill, so they say I'm made of iron. Also, because I liked movie."

Pyrrha didn't know anything about Earth movies, so she supposed that she'd just set that tidbit aside for when she needed entertainment during the night. "I have a nickname, too. I'm called 'The Invincible Girl', by… well, most everyone I know, unfortunately."

Fyodor's frown turned into a smirk as he dropped his shirt back to rest properly on his bulky frame, and looked back at Pyrrha. "Oh? All show?"

"I don't know about Earth, Mr. Sidorov, but where I'm from, you _earn_ every accolade you get, titles included. No one has beaten me yet."

Pyrrha didn't like playing up her accomplishments at all, but if it was for educational purposes, she'd embrace the role of 'cocky challenger'. It seemed to be working on Fyodor.

"Well. We'll see if I cannot break the streak. I warn you, I am bad at fighting. I much prefer making friends. Perhaps this ends that way, da?" The big man raised an eyebrow, offering his free hand to Pyrrha.

She took it, and gave it a firm shake. "Perhaps."

With that, he pulled back, moving towards the others as his face morphed into a stoic mask. "But first… _I must break you._ "

There was silence over the room for a solid five seconds after his boast, then Fyodor's mask began to subtly crack. His eyebrows slowly curled, and his lips were drawn inward as he drew a sharp inhale; the stoic expression finally lost any attempt at restraint when Roderick let out a wheeze, and the big man started laughing alongside him. He had a laugh that reminded Pyrrha of Professor Port- a big, hearty belly laugh that came straight from the diaphragm and lasted a full minute.

"What's so funny?" Jaune asked from behind her.

Fyodor shook his head, his laugh slowly dying down to a chuckle as he rolled the wrist of his sword arm, and turned his attention to Pyrrha's noodly partner-and-leader. "Nothing, nothing. Is movie joke! Now, with that done, I am ready!"

Pyrrha nodded her assent, and took a step back. She had a bit of mat to work with now that Jaune and Bradford had cleared the floor. A smaller arena than she was used to for certain, but not anything crippling. If anything, this worked to her advantage. Though Pyrrha was anything BUT small at 5'11, she was much smaller than Fyodor, who was similar in build to Philippe, but closer in height to Alexios. Even now that they were in a fight, it was obvious he preferred not to force that size to move too quickly. He stood with his sword at the back, leading with his off-hand. An unusual choice, but she couldn't fault him for his lack of formal training. What was also unusual was his movement- rather, his lack thereof. The man stood stock still and watched Pyrrha like a hawk.

Pyrrha took a step forward. Fyodor took a step back. She took a step to the left, he took one to the right. Back, and he went back. She took a step back, and he shifted ever so slightly forward.

"Y'all fight like old people fuck," Declan stated eloquently.

"Shut the fuck up," the narrow-eyed man ordered. "I'm trying to pay attention."

Pyrrha knew one of them would have to break eventually, or they'd be standing here forever. She also knew that unless word traveled fast, Fyodor had no idea about the apparent strength differential between Team JNPR and Earth humans, meaning that if she got the first hit in, she'd do some serious damage, maybe even end the fight alright.

Only one way to find out.

Pyrrha stepped forward slowly, watching as Fyodor stepped back again, then launched forward, blade extended out from her body and readying for a wide diagonal slash, up the same direction as his scar. Fyodor quickly sidestepped the blow, attempting to throw a heaving single-handed slash down on Pyrrha's back. She quickly righted herself, spinning about to block the strike and push the blade outward and jab the point into Fyodor's stomach before he could even think of retaliating. The big man groaned in disappointment, seemingly ready to concede now, even though the contest had barely started.

"Shit, you are too fast," he muttered. "This is why I hide in shadows and WAIT, Central!"

"It's cause you're a PUSSY!" shouted the curly-headed man, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. "Gimme a goddamn fight!"

"Talk shit, get hit, Keenan!"

"The fuck I will, laddie!"

"The fuck you will indeed, Kyle, you just volunteered," Bradford stated. "Up ya come."

The man visibly deflated, his shoulders sagging. "Aw, f-"

* * *

"-OOK ME!" Keenan shouted, clutching his ankle.

"I'm sorry!" Pyrrha exclaimed. She hadn't meant to throw him that hard, really. Her memory about the whole 'strength' thing slipped.

"Fooook me! You fookin' broke it, you daft bimbo, you've kill't me! I'm deceased! I'll never walk again!" Keenan wailed, rolling around on the floor. "Oh, you bitch! May the fruits of your womb be cursed for all your days-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Narrow Eyes demanded. "GOD! DAMN! MY TURN, COME HERE, I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS, THEN KICK HIS!"

* * *

Tomohiro Watanabe, as Pyrrha had learned him to be, was even less of a challenge, charging in and running into a swing that caught him right in the gut and sent him sprawling.

"FUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

Wolf Mother stepped up, sneering down at Pyrrha now as she cracked her knuckles in anticipation, before drawing the rather large breaching axe off her back.

"You're a fun one. I _like_ you."

* * *

Wolf Mother wiped the smudge of blood off her lip, and smiled what was possibly the creepiest smile that Pyrrha had ever seen as she walked out the door.

"Man, that was fun! Hope we dance again sometime, kiddo!" she hollered, trailing off as she went back into the hallway. Roderick visibly cringed.

"Is 'Scary Butch' a type?" Roderick asked.

"I reckon it should be," Declan replied, "if only for her sake. Alright, anyone else wanna get the shit knocked out of 'em?"

Everyone turned to look at Declan. Fortunately for him, a man peeked out from behind him, drawing everyone's attention to the latter instead.

"Abel," Declan started.

"Please, God, no."

"Don't call me God, it's not grand enough for my tastes. Now come on, you lil' _bitch_."

* * *

Pyrrha went easy on Abel. Just a little. Enough to make him feel like he didn't completely waste his time.

"I thought this was supposed to be training, not 'beat all of our asses in rapid succession!'" Remi protested. "What are we, a bunch of imbeciles!?"

"I guess so!" Declan answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Welp. Guess it's just the three of us now."

Pyrrha looked between the three of them, and indeed, a fight with any of them would be much more difficult. Remi apparently had classical training, while Roderick at least made efforts to obtain some form of formal practice. Declan, supposedly, had 'natural talent', but he was using axes, which was something Pyrrha hadn't been expecting up until Wolf Mother came out swinging.

Pyrrha's eyes met Declan's first.

"Don't you look at me like that, little lady, I'm about to be on sight with you," he warned her.

"On sight?" Pyrrha repeated, confused.

"It means I'm about two seconds away from goin' apeshit on your ass."

"Apeshit?"

"Are you fuckin' with me right now?"

She was, just a little bit.

Declan groaned in frustration, pulling his axes off his back. "Alright, I'm about to cunt punt you into low orbit."

 _How crude._

The first thing that Pyrrha noted that Declan was putting himself at an unhealthy disadvantage by using his axes instead of a practice blade. Unless he was willing to potentially maim Pyrrha, which seemed a distinct possibility (though not as likely as Adam would be to try it, she figured), he'd have to hold back. On top of that, he was using two very heavy weapons.

"Declan, grab a dull blade, the last thing I wanna do is pick up fingers off my floor," Bradford warned him.

Declan just gave his ruddy locks a sassy flip with his off hand, transitioning midway through into a silent request for Bradford to self-fornicate. "She can handle it. Come on, sister, 'four time champion' ain't afraid of a few sharp edges, right?" He sneered down at Pyrrha as he flipped one of his axes in his hand. "Riiiight?"

Pyrrha looked back at Bradford, who'd turned to her for some sort of approval.

"I don't have a problem with it," she said. Truthfully, if she felt like she was in danger, she could simply use her Semblance to throw him off and call it there, and that would be the end of it.

"Alright then." Bradford turned his attention back to the _other_ redhead. "Declan, mind yourself."

"I'll only leave _shallow_ wounds," Declan assured him, his grin not even budging in the slightest.

Declan attempted to attack first, with an overhand swing from both of his weapons. It was practically impossible NOT to dodge the strike, and as he went for a follow up with his right-hand axe, sweeping up from the opposite side and swinging for Pyrrha's chin, she was reminded of one of her first opponents in the tournament circuit. Indeed, down to the axes, Declan was just Cerule Athene with a new coat of paint.

She'd beaten Cerule without a single scratch.

Pyrrha batted the axe away with her sword effortlessly, and Declan attempted another wide, telegraphed swing with the other axe. She ducked beneath, and slammed the flat of her blade into his chest, pushing against it to shove him backwards and give her an opening to attack. As Declan stumbled backwards, Pyrrha lunged in, intending to put an end to the fight quickly with a solid whack to the side.

Impact, and Declan stumbled, letting out a pained grunt as he righted himself, and proceeded to brandish his axes again.

 _He's not done yet._

Declan seemed to be intent on getting hurt today, so Pyrrha figured that if he was good to continue, then she would oblige. Stepping back to create a bit of distance between them, the four-time-champion once again found a parallel with an old rival. Cerule had very little patience, and even less tolerance. When she flagged or faltered in their fight, she'd come at Pyrrha like a wild animal, and it seemed that Declan was set on that same path.

The axe-wielder rushed in, surprising Pyrrha with the fact that he wasn't at all attempting to swing yet. Capitalizing on his hesitance, Pyrrha swung for the fences, aiming to deliver a blow to the stomach that would make him reconsider coming for seconds.

But then, Declan leaned in to the hit. No, not leaned in- he leaned _over_ it, and caught the practice blade with his arm.

"That's fucking cheating!" Tomohiro groan-shouted from the sidelines.

Before Pyrrha could right herself, Declan used his free arm to deliver a hammering blow with the back end of the axe to her shoulder- he'd at least been courteous enough not to try and hack her arm off. Her aura flared, and if she wasn't careful, she knew that it wouldn't last much longer. She either needed to separate from Declan, or find a way to leverage her strength to her advantage.

Another swing, this time the back of the axe aimed at Pyrrha's head, and she took action. Ducking under the swing, Pyrrha swept low, ducking to a knee and sliding under Declan to tuck her arm through his legs and hook them over her shoulder. Then, she attempted to stand again. Declan sandbagged her harder than any opponent had attempted to before, answering her audacious grapple attempt with a hammering blow with the handle of his axe, but one thing Pyrrha had the advantage in was endurance- though her Aura wavered, it didn't break just yet. She threw all of her weight into a second lift attempt, and although she wasn't able to exactly hoist Declan, she did wrestle him to the floor, preparing to press her blade against his throat and unequivocally end the spar.

Declan had other ideas. Catching the practice blade in his palm, and wrapping it in a vice grip. Both of his axes were out of reach, so this was the best he could do for now. He then coiled his legs, and pressed against Pyrrha's waist before kicking out with all his might, pushing her off of him just long enough for him to roll to his feet by one of his axes. Grabbing a hold of the weapon in both hands, he swung for the fences, barely scraping Pyrrha's nose with the blade as he went through the spin, throwing out a leg in an attempt to follow up on his momentum.

It was a bad move.

Unlike most combatants Pyrrha knew, Declan didn't have years of practice with his weapons of choice to perfect such techniques. As such, his little spin into a kick left him badly off balance, and all too easy to catch. His foot landed firmly in the crook of Pyrrha's elbow, and with that, the fight was over. Pyrrha let off a slugging one-handed swing to get said point across properly.

And Declan likely thought that Jaune hit hard. Pyrrha's blade collided against Declan's rib cage and left him sprawled out over the floor, groaning in agony. To his credit, he actually put up a contest, unlike most of his peers.

"Gooood _Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn!_ " he moaned, curling up and grabbing at his bruised ribs, and even more bruised ego. "You hit like a small BUS!"

"Good effort, Declan! At least I know you're trying," Pyrrha assured him, releasing his leg and allowing him to wriggle away to the other side of the mat.

"Yeah, I bet you say that to _all_ the pretty boys, huh? Agh, shit…"

Once Declan collected himself and limped off after the others, who had all taken their seats off behind Bradford and Jaune, it was only Roderick and Remi left standing.

"Alright, which of you two wants it?" Bradford asked, audibly amused now. This 'training' session had become more of an impromptu beatdown than anything educational, but from the sound and look of things, Bradford apparently wanted this to happen. Pyrrha made a mental note to ask about it later, if it came up.

Roderick and Remi looked at each other first, then at Pyrrha, then back at each other. Slowly, they began to point a finger at one another. Even more slowly, Remi's finger went down.

"Alright, fine, let's get this over with," the pierced man muttered, flipping his sword in his hand and turning to Pyrrha. He stepped onto the mat, and put one foot forward in a side stance, with the blade pointing outwards to her. It would have been a good fencing position, if he had a rapier or saber, but with the heavy, unwieldy training blade, it looked sort of odd. Still, it showed that he knew his form, and wasn't just a novice like the others.

Remi stepped in first, giving an experimental swipe of the blade that Pyrrha stepped away from, before lunging in for her own attack. Remi rapidly parroted her evasion, switching feet and bringing the blade to a two-handed grip before swiping her blade aside, and attacking with a hefty overhead slash. While Pyrrha was able to block it, Remi's momentum pushed her blade far enough down that he was able to get a solid hit on her, grazing her across the face and forcing her Aura to kick in. She couldn't take too many more hits before it broke. With that in mind, she went on the defensive, allowing Remi to enter what he must consider his sphere, judging by the confidence with which he began his assault. One thing that surprised her was how quick the man was. Compared to every other opponent she'd faced thus far, only Declan was anywhere close to Remi's sheer speed. He didn't sacrifice power, either- he simply was an aggressive, vicious combatant who maintained just enough discipline to control the path of his blade and the pace of his attack. If she had her shield, Pyrrha would be able to simply wear him down, but with just a sword, it was all she could do to parry his attacks and wait for an opening, or a quirk in his positioning that allowed her to take back the advantage.

After what felt like an eternity of being wailed on and blocking a barrage of swings, something caught Pyrrha's attention. Remi was beginning to slow down, almost imperceptibly, and his eyes were beginning to wander. He was thinking the same thing that Pyrrha was. Likely, he was looking for a gap in her defense that he could quickly exploit to put an end to this bout.

She couldn't afford to give him that opening. During the gap between one of his strikes and the next, Pyrrha forced her sword outward, blade clashing against blade as she pushed Remi back and turned the momentum back to her side. Rapidly, she found purchase with a solid strike that hit Remi in the stomach, but unlike every other (Non-Declan) opponent she'd actually struck, Remi didn't back down. He let out a pained grunt, but that was the only acknowledgement he'd given. With surprising alacrity, he grabbed Pyrrha's training blade with one hand, before bashing her in the head with the pommel of his sword, sending her stumbling backwards with a sizeable dent in her very limited Aura pool. With the advantage back in his corner, Remi launched another attack, leaping in with his blade over his head to put an end to the contest by force.

He'd grown overconfident. _And to think,_ Pyrrha mused, _he watched Declan do the exact same thing._

Pyrrha rapidly rushed forward, jumping upward and kicking out with one leg at Remi's stomach, knocking him askew and sending them both to the floor. Pyrrha, as she anticipated, was the first to regain her bearings, rolling to the side and bringing herself next to Remi, and pointing her blade at his throat.

"You did very well, Sergeant!" she congratulated him. Remi just scowled, slapping the blade away.

"Fucking bullshit," he muttered as he pulled himself up. "Roderick! Try not to make a damn fool of yourself."

Roderick shrugged his shoulders and gave a nervous smile, before grabbing a firm hold of his own blade. "Alright, alright, alriiiight…"

* * *

Roderick had tried, indeed, he'd tried very hard, but against Remi's advice, he did make a damn fool of himself. He'd put all of his might into one huge, fancy spinning swing, and for his trouble, he got a bloody nose.

To be fair, that wasn't Pyrrha's intention. It's just that, when he hit her blade with his own, his momentum carried him face first into the side of her head, and he smashed into her circlet. The impact was so forceful it actually overloaded her Aura, and now she was rubbing her aching temple while Roderick pinched his nose shut.

 _I really should have dodged that_ , Pyrrha thought to herself. In fact, she wasn't exactly sure why she hadn't. She just felt… off. Everything going on just threw her off in the worst way.

"Braddock, that was some piss-poor swordsmanship right there, and I'd know, I'm just as bad at this as you are," Bradford stated, although he couldn't help but smile just a little bit. Jaune didn't find it funny at all, immediately pulling Pyrrha to the side and mothering over her like his own sisters had probably done him, years ago.

"I fucked up, Central!" was all Braddock could say in reply, his voice warped by his attempts at self-medicating. "I fucked up!"

"Man, and I thought I got off bad," Keenan muttered.

"Now that you've all gotten the shit kicked out of you," Bradford started again, "we can start moving on. What you all hopefully learned here is that your blade work is subpar, as a whole. We've got Stun Lancers out there that have been genetically bred to swing a baton or sword around like they were born with one in their hand, and if they take you down, you're not getting back up. Say what you want about Miss Nikos' 'feminine touch', but at least she's not going to kill you. Once you all get yourselves sorted out and unfuck yourselves, she's gonna give you all some pointers based on what she and I have observed from the 'matches'. "

"Just give me a minute," Pyrrha called out, shaking her head a few times and clearing out the mental haze as best she could.

"You sure you're gonna be okay?" Jaune asked, placing a hand on her shoulder in a way that simultaneously made her both grounded, and a bit nervous. He didn't have any gloves on, and she'd just noticed for apparently the first time that his hands were really, really, _really_ -

 _Okay, we're not going to do this in front of a bunch of soldiers, Pyrrha Nikos._

 _But his hands are so soft and gentle!_

 _Shut up, woman, you're trying to TEACH! You're not a blushing schoolgirl, you can fantasize those hands playing grab-ass with you later._

 _I do NOT fantasize about 'grab-ass'!_

 _Why are you yelling at yourself?_

Pyrrha let out a sigh, and rolled her shoulders and neck again. "Yes, Jaune, I'll be fine. I hope you learned something from all this."

"Yeah," Jaune replied, followed by a short, airy chuckle that Pyrrha quickly found herself endeared by. "I learned not to spin."

* * *

Maybe an hour after Pyrrha's demonstration/beatdown/lesson concluded, the GTS was once again occupied, albeit not with further violence and swordplay. Instead, Murphy had come to work off his stress, as he often did, and Alexios followed, as was also normal.

Murphy had a lot of stress to work off.

"Murphy, I'm pretty sure I've told you this before, but I'm rather certain I can shatter stone against your chest," Alexios joked from the nearby treadmill as Murphy examined himself in the GTS' standing mirror. Murphy wasn't a proud man. He hated braggarts and showoffs, couldn't stand gloating or preening- he was a quiet man, who preferred to stand in the background whenever possible. Of course, a military life and genetics made it hard. As much as he wanted to dismiss Alexios' praise as a good-natured rib, the imposing height and brick-wall frame was indeed something most men would be proud of, and something that far too many people commented on.

Murphy couldn't bring himself to be proud at all. After all, a lot of good this physique had done him.

"Yeah, you told me once," Murphy replied, windmilling and shaking his arms as he limbered himself up. He wasn't sure what he'd do first today. The punching bags? The treadmills, maybe. Or maybe the bench instead?

He needed to punch something.

Pulling his gloves taut, Murphy turned his attention to the punching bag. It was old, ratty, and barely holding together through the patchwork, but it would do. As he threw a few phantom punches to warm up, Alexios continued speaking.

"Have you seen Adam?"

"Nah, not since we got back. Why?" Murphy had often found himself in the company of his fellow veteran, to the point where many assumed they were friends. They weren't, really. Adam came to him for advice and occasional restraint regarding his alien genome-induced rage, but other than that, they rarely spoke.

"I heard that he and Other Nikos had a little spat, someone was putting money on a fight," Alexios explained, smirking as he picked up the pace of his run. "My money's on her. Might be biased, though."

Murphy just shook his head with a wan smirk, before throwing a quick, exploratory jab at the punching bag. Nothing too rough or severe. Just testing the waters. "She wears the name better than you do, Alexios."

"Hey, hey, hey, that's just rude!" Alexios was chuckling, the same low rumbling chuckle he used when confronted with anything that wasn't life threatening. "Got some good news on the home front."

"Oh, what about?" Murphy asked, before throwing another punch at the bag with his left, then a hard right. The contact sent shocks up his forearm, kept him grounded.

"Kassandra's condition is improving. It looks like the procedure did what was promised. She's in remission now, or so it seems." Alexios' joy was audible in his voice, and Murphy couldn't help but feel similarly happy for the man. Kassandra was a sweet little thing, didn't deserve what she'd gotten. It was good to know that God… or someone… was still watching over her.

"That's great news, mate, really. You still going for that Plan B, though?" he asked. Right hook, left hook, pull the bag back, right hook again.

"Yes, if we win fast enough," Alexios replied, slowing his pace to a brisk jog. " Say what you will about ADVENT, but the Gene Therapy really works. It worked for my papa, bless the poor old man. I believe he's still in Santorini."

"They didn't target your family?" Murphy was incredulous- he'd heard plenty of horror stories about what happened to the friends and family of defectors.

"They targeted me and my household, yes, but my father didn't know anything about what I was doing. ADVENT is cruel, but they normally don't go that far unless they're sending a message. It's impractical, and bad PR if they can't doctor up enough evidence."

"Yeah, well, the disappearances are bad PR," Murphy countered, throwing another left hook, then an uppercut with the right, then a big elbow with the right. He could feel his muscles tightening, and there was a slight burn running up his arms. It was a good pain, the kind of pain that reminded you that you were still alive, still breathing, still fighting. "What about that?"

"They blame it on us, Murphy," Alexios replied, a bit quieter. "List them as killed in dissident attacks, and occasionally manufacture said dissident attacks when there aren't any to work with."

"Christ." Murphy hadn't known all of that- he didn't keep up with the news or current events outside of XCOM anymore. He didn't like being reminded that there _was_ an outside world. He felt segregated from it, like an alien. _Heh. Alien._

A few more hefty punches, and the leather of Murphy's gloves was starting to chafe his knuckles. He wasn't near ready to stop. He'd stop when he got tired, when his arms ached and his fists hurt so much that he didn't have to think about the little girl in the infirmary anymore.

"So, what brings you in today? Adam? The kids? Just thinking about… you know?" Alexios asked, broaching the last of those subjects very cautiously. "I know about Nora."

"Yeah, surprised no one who knows has commented on it."

"They don't look anything alike, Murphy."

The punches had a bit more force behind them. "That doesn't help. You should now that, you've been there."

"Yes, but Pyrrha and Kassandra are nothing alike. It doesn't bother me a bit. Okay, well, maybe a little, but only because when someone says 'Nikos' I automatically assume they're talking about her. No one other than Shen really asks for me, anyway." Alexios shrugged, now at walking speed and cooling off from his admittedly short run. He'd told Murphy he wasn't in any particular mood for strenuous exercise today, so it made sense for him to stop now. "Nora's got a lot in common with your daughter, though, doesn't she?"

Murphy was not a fan of this line of questioning.

"Not really," Murphy lied.

Alexios' eyes drifted to the tattoo on Murphy's arm. Murphy knew which one, too. The bust of a girl with bright green eyes, flaxen hair just like her mother, and (much to young Eleanor's chagrin) her dad's nose. The only tattoo Murphy had out of the six that had any color that wasn't bluish-black.

"I don't know, the eyes?" Alexios asked.

"Shut up, Lex." Another punch, a bit harder than Murphy intended. The bag swung back so hard that Murphy's second punch hit nothing but empty air.

"Are you all tight up there, Lieutenant?" Alexios asked, stepping off the treadmill.

"CAPTAIN, for fuck's sake! Does nobody know how _fucking_ rank works here, Lex?" Murphy growled, throwing a hefty haymaker at the bag, shaking the chain connecting it to the post and busting one of the patches. With each punch came a rise in the volume of his voice. "I've been called Lieutenant and Captain back and forth depending on the fucking mood, no one knows anyone's fucking rank, we don't even follow fucking rank protocol when we DO remember rank, and you've got ME IN CHARGE OF A FUCKING FIRETEAM! ME!"

Another haymaker, and the seams near the point of impact began to fray. Two more vicious hooks, then another haymaker.

"Hey, _Captain_ , chill," Alexios said, approaching Murphy carefully and attempting to mollify him. "You've been doing a fine job in command thus far, what's this all about?"

 _You wouldn't know a fine job if it beat you over the fuckin' head._

Murphy threw another slugging right hand at the bag, then another left. His fists were starting to hurt with each impact, like he was hitting a wall instead of a sand-filled bag. It still didn't hurt nearly enough to justify things. Justify the repeated lapses in judgement back in the SOER.

 _Not enough to justify not being there for your children when they needed you. To justify the last thing you ever said to your family being a hateful spew of rage and 'responsibility'. Justify-_

"Murphy, I'm talking to you, gia chári tou! You've been out of it since you got back from the op, what's going on?"

 _-having all this responsibility thrown on you because you're 'special forces'. To justify all of the dead bodies behind you when you first stepped on board this damn ship. To justify the decisions you made that made so many others feel the exact same pain you did. To justify putting these kid's in harm's way because WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TAKE TEENAGERS INTO A COMBAT ZONE? To justify allowing your irresponsibility to nearly cost one of them their lives._

Another punch split the bag at the top, causing sand to slowly leak out and run down the side of the bag as Alexios grabbed Murphy's right arm mid-punch.

"You know, Cap, I asked you a question," he stated. For once, Alexios didn't sound bored, or tired, or disinterested. His voice had a hard edge to it now, and his eyes were boring into Murphy's like two hard-edged emeralds. It unnerved the Aussie to be looked at that way.

Murphy yanked his arm free easily. He had more strength in one arm than Alexios probably had in both of his. Still, he didn't resume punching the bag.

"I'm not cut out for this," Murphy said, quietly. "I'm not a leader."

"The fuck you aren't. Every op you've been on has been a resounding win for us."

"Tell that to Jane, or Silas. Oh, that's right, you can't, because they're DEAD!" Murphy retorted, gripping his fist so tightly that he could feel his fingernails digging indents in his gloves. "That isn't a bloody success, Alex! I'm a soldier, always have been, but I've never been a leader! I was always the one who just followed orders and got shit done, I wasn't FIT to lead! And from the day I was shoved into a leadership role, I screwed it. I screwed it so fuckin' sideways that I can barely fuckin' sleep! You all don't get it! You weren't in Sydney, and you weren't in Perth, and you most certainly weren't at the Rock!"

"You carried us through that tower, Murphy-"

"The kids did, don't fuckin' kid yourself, Lex." Murphy threw his arm out in the direction of the infirmary. "And now one of 'em's got their fucking brains boiled because I wasn't paying attention!"

"Thee mou, Murphy! You're telling me you _can't_ read minds?" Alexios asked with faux amazement. "Shit, and here I was thinking that all that praying you do brought you _closer_ to God. No one is fucking perfect!" The Greek threw his arms out, his voice hitting a fever pitch as he slammed his hands back together in a gesture that Murphy recognized from recordings of his lectures back in Alexios' glory days. He only did this when he was passionate about something. "I get where you're coming from, Murphy. I haven't been where you are mentally, but I can see it. But you are doing the best you can. I know you don't believe that, but you are. Hitman lives and dies behind you- the five of us would never be able to coexist without you. I fucking hate Bridget, the stupid whore she is, she hates me and Joseph because 'imagine being homosexual in 2035!', and Roderick and Jerry were about to kill each other when they got on this boat."

Alexios grabbed Murphy's shoulder and gave it a rough shove. " But you, Murphy, you brought us together, and most importantly you _keep_ us together. Nobody else on this ship could do that. Adam either wants to shoot himself or everyone else, never anywhere in between, I'm quite certain Wolf Mother is a damned psychopath who would throw her men into the meat grinder if it meant we'd win, and FUCK Remi. Damn him to hell, I don't know why we keep him on this ship! When these kids came on board, you were the first person to volunteer to help them, did you know that? Nobody else stepped up to the plate. When we were in that damn tower, you kept all eight of our people out there alive."

Murphy went to say something, only for Alexios to cut him off. "And yes, I just called the kids 'our people', because they ARE. They definitely are to you, because you have something that no other squad leader on this fucking ship has, Murphy. You have a fucking _heart._ "

"And look how far that's gotten us," Murphy replied, his voice unusually timid and entirely too airy. He wasn't even sure he'd said that, that's how… wrong… it sounded. "How many people have those teams lost?"

"Remi lost Wade when the Avenger went down. Wolf lost De Sade and Wilder."

"And did that happen because of a mistake that Remi or Sharon made?" Murphy asked, pushing Alexios away from him. "Keep your praise for someone who actually deserves it. I need some air."

Murphy turned and skulked towards the door, only for Alexios to once again interrupt him, grabbing a hold of his shoulder and pulling him back. Green met green, and Alexios's steely gaze returned if only for a moment.

"Go talk to Jerry. For the team's sake."

Murphy closed his eyes, and let out a ragged sigh. Of _course_ they'd say to talk to Jerry. "He's not a bloody therapist."

Nevertheless, he'd go. He needed to check on Nora anyway.

The walk to the infirmary was rather uneventful. It was the early afternoon, so there wasn't much going on other than the research staff bustling about. Pretty soon there was gonna be another patrol sent out to watch the haven, and although Murphy didn't see his name in the rotation, he did notice that Roderick and Joseph were both on the board. Joseph didn't like leaving the ship, so that would certainly be fun.

Once he reached the infirmary, Murphy caught Pyrrha walking out, with fresh tape on her upper arm, and Ren standing by the door, peering inside.

"Oi," Murphy greeted him, giving an offhand wave. Ren's eyes snapped to Murphy so fast that the Aussie got secondhand whiplash just watching it.

"Captain."

 _Someone's paying attention_ , Murphy noted. "How's she doin'?"

"Sleeping. No improvement from yesterday, but she hasn't gotten any worse, either," Ren replied. "Corporal Hall's doing all he can."

"He's a good man. Nora's in good hands, lad. How're you holdin' up?" Murphy stopped next to the door, looking down at the boy and attempting to put up a convincingly neutral expression. Considering all the thoughts bouncing off Murphy's skull right now, that was rather difficult.

"I'm alright. Just… checking in." Ren's attention turned back to the interior of the infirmary, and to his friend. Murphy found it heartening that at the very least, they had each other's backs… whether anyone else on this boat cared about them or not.

"Mind if I go in? Need to talk to Jerry."

Ren stepped out of Murphy's way, and Murphy stepped over the threshold before turning back to Ren. "You should get some rest. Go relax, get a drink or something."

"I'll be fine, but thank you."

"Mate, Nora will be fine for a few minutes. Trust me."

Ren looked at him with that same damn look he'd had the other day. Murphy wasn't sure what to make of it- it was like a caged up dog, one that hadn't been fed in days and was fighting tooth and nail against the bars to get out. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that Nora and Ren had, but it was certainly important to the both of them.

"Alright," Ren conceded. His eyes drifted away from Murphy, but notably, he placed a hand on the bigger man's arm. Murphy was confused; first by the gesture, since Ren wasn't a very expressive or touchy individual in his experience, and secondly by the fact that he suddenly felt a lot less shitty. The things that were plaguing him still lingered in the back of his mind, but he no longer felt like he was about to explode.

It was a lovely feeling, really.

Stepping the rest of the way into the infirmary, Murphy took stock of what was going on. Nora was indeed sleeping rather peacefully, actually curled up in a blanket instead of laying ramrod straight. Most of the machines and readers had been unplugged and removed, with only a few electrodes on her head remaining, and even those were just wireless. Jerry stood off on the other side of the room, looking at scans and pictures. One thing that looked noticeably different was the slightest of bruises at the base of his neck.

Murphy grinned in spite of himself.

"I thought you and Sophie weren't intimate, lad," Murphy spoke up, and Jerry visibly recoiled, his hands gripping the PDA in front of him in a vice. _Never gets old._

"Even if we _were,_ why would it be your business, Murph?" Jerry asked, exasperated, as he looked up from his work. "What are you even doing here? Did Roderick tell you?"

"Nah. Lex wanted me to talk to you about something, sent me over."

"Huh. What does he want to do with me? We're not exactly the best of friends, you know that," Jerry stated matter-of-factly as he returned his attention to the scans. Indeed, outside of Bridget and everyone else, Jerry and Alexios probably had the worst two-way dynamic of the team when they'd met. While Roderick and Jerry were just a clash of personalities, Jerry and Alexios had a much different paradigm. Jerry didn't like ADVENT collaborators- he considered such people the very definition of a categorical traitor. While this extended to a distaste for Konstatin or Kyle, in Lex's case it was downright _disdain_. Murphy disagreed with such a feeling, Alexios was a fine man, as devoted to the cause as anyone, but to Jerry's credit, no one else on this ship besides Tygan had contributed actively to ADVENT's efforts… and Alexios.

"I don't remember," Murphy lied, so fluidly that it felt practically identical to the truth. "Prolly somethin' about the tyke. How she doin'?"

"Same as she was when you asked Ren, I got ears."

"I know you got ears, lad, but I get the feeling you might be telling him something that you're not telling me, and vice versa."

"Trust me, if I had any news, good or bad, you'd know," Jerry assured him, putting his PDA back on the counter and turning to look at Nora. "I'm hoping Assassin gets their shit together and pulls that op off soon. If her Aura doesn't kick in and start repairing the damage, we're gonna have a big problem getting her back home in one piece."

Murphy nodded in agreement, already trying to think up plans for how to keep Nora out of the line of fire in the worst case scenario.

"On top of that, I'm out of the meds for Declan and Bridget," Jerry explained, frustration bubbling just below the surface of his voice as he pored over his desk, "I still haven't convinced Bradford that his liver is more important than the bar, and apparently the Commander's headaches aren't getting any better, so there's that, too." The medic eventually found his way to a chair alongside an unoccupied bed, and slumped down, visibly exhausted. "I don't know how the heck these XCOM guys did it back then. Keeping up with all this crap on top of fighting aliens every day."

"I dunno either, mate," Murphy admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't have the fuckin' foggiest."


	21. Chapter 21

_Two days after the previous chapter_

 _12 Hours before Blacksite Raid_

Jaune Arc wasn't very happy.

Then again, he'd be lying if he said he was ever truly happy here on 'Earth'. He barely found his feet as a Huntsman-in-training on Remnant, and now he was being thrust (albeit temporarily) into the role of 'soldier' with people who at best distrusted him, or at worst outright despised him, and now two of his teammates were injured, one of whom was his _partner_.

Maybe these XCOM guys had a point.

That had eaten him up on the inside since it had happened, but he couldn't bring himself to talk to Pyrrha about it. Pyrrha likely knew his reasons, and didn't hold it against him, but still, he'd faltered in the line of duty. His partner had gotten hurt because of it. If it wasn't for Adam, Pyrrha might have… _died_ … that would have been on him.

Speaking of Adam, the man was grating on Jaune even more ever since that mission. While he had never been a fan of Jaune or the rest of JNPR, and often looked at them with hostility at the best of times, Adam'd never outright gone and insulted them since he corralled his evident paranoia. Recently, however, Jaune had been hearing plenty of talking, about himself in particular. While Murphy had insisted he room with Hitman team after he found out about the first Adam incident, he still spent a lot of time around Menace Team for one reason or another. Part of it was that he just liked a few of them. Declan was annoying sometimes, but seemed to be trying his best to be funny and likeable. Sophie was a genuine golden-hearted sweetie who reminded Jaune of his younger sisters, always saying something nice to anyone that wasn't Declan. Although Jaune had never bothered to talk to him in depth, Lawrence always seemed ready to listen to anyone that had any problems, and obviously had a lot of experience. In another time and place he'd have liked to have spent more time with the man. Heck, even Jack had his decent moments, despite his raging paranoia about aliens.

Adam was just generally unpleasant as a rule of thumb. When he wasn't visibly and audibly angry, he seemed to be trying his best to conceal his rage.

His best **sucked**.

Lately, Adam had been saying things and looking at Jaune differently. He didn't sound angry, not even upset. More along the lines of 'disgusted'.

Still, Jaune tried not to hold it against him. His mom always said "Holding a grudge is just putting poison in your own well and hoping the other person drinks from it," so he tried to forgive and forget. Still, the condescending side-eyes and barely-concealed comments about Jaune's 'exploits' were only making him more and more anxious in his dealings with the man.

He wasn't going to do anything drastic about it, though. He'd be leaving here soon enough, if everything went to plan.

Pyrrha had dragged him out of bed for another outdoor training session on the landing deck of the Avenger, and they'd gone back and forth for the better part of an hour. His partner seemed to be easing into the swing of things here, but Jaune knew that she was just as ready as him to head home and get back to training under _normal_ circumstances. He appreciated the support back when they first started their rooftop training sessions, but time spent on Earth was definitely putting his respect for her into a new perspective.

This time they'd had a guest. Lawrence had silently observed them a while back, and Jaune had invited him to come and watch, if it pleased him. Although it was more a formality than anything, since they were guests on the ship he served on, Lawrence took the request in stride and came along. He didn't really contribute anything or say much, he just sat back with a cigarette and observed.

"Good effort, Jaune! There's still plenty of room for improvement, but I feel we've made significant progress today," Pyrrha encouraged him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He could see the ridge of the blade wound on her hand clearly now- Aura may speed up the healing process, even in limited quantities, but with the constraints on them now it wasn't as if the wound would disappear from sight and mind.

"Thanks, partner. Couldn't do it without you," Jaune replied with a smile.

"I gotta say, watchin' you two whack each other with swords and boards is certainly not what I saw myself doing today, but damn if it isn't entertaining," Lawrence interrupted, butting out his cigarette against the wall behind him. "Surprised y'all two aren't sweating like pigs after that, I'm tired just from lookin' at you."

Pyrrha laughed, an airy, subdued laugh that reminded Jaune of 'high society' types he'd seen in TV shows and the like. "You could always join in, if you want to learn something, Mr. Hamilton."

"Honey, I'm pushin' 60 and _feeling it_. I won't be joining you in ANYTHING," the marksman replied with a grin. "Anyways, I think I'll be taking my leave. You both take care."

With that, the veteran took off, heading down the stairs back into the bowels of the Avenger. Jaune's earpiece crackled and sputtered with feedback as Lawrence got to a respectable distance before speaking again.

" _I got it set up. Let me know when Pyrrha goes back down, and I'll get Adam. I really hope y'all can suss out whatever the problem is here._ "

Jaune swallowed the lump in his throat, and turned back to look at his partner. "So, um… what now?"

"I'm probably going to go check on Nora, and then get some rest. We need to be in top form for the operation," Pyrrha replied. "How are you feeling about that?"

"I'm not really… feeling that good about it," Jaune said. "Apparently this is really significant to them, like, _game-changing_ significant. I don't want to screw that up."

"You won't. Murphy and his team have made it clear how much good you did during the fighting on the tower," she assured him, "and _I_ know that you can do just as well this time around, as well. If we work as a team, and work with them, we'll all be fine."

"Do we even know who's going out with us? Nora's in no shape to go out and fight-" Jaune started, only to be cut off by his teammate.

"Ren and I are going to talk to the Commander about that, actually. We agree with you, Jaune. She's doing better, but putting her in a fight is a risk we can't afford to take right now. On the subject of our accompaniment, I can't tell you. Murphy is supposed to be leading, but… he seems off. I don't know what's going on, the whole crew seems on edge."

"Yeah. Like something really bad's about to happen, but you don't know when it's happening or what it is." Jaune sighed. "I noticed it too."

Pyrrha frowned, and idly flexed her marred hand, clenching and unclenching it languidly as she gave Jaune a look-over. She opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was died in her lungs, and the only sound was a slight intake of breath.

Jaune didn't really have anything to say either, so they just stood there for a minute.

"We're going to be alright, Jaune," she finally said, quiet as a mouse. "All of us. We'll make it home."

"I hope so," he agreed.

"I knowso," she insisted, with a conviction that almost won Jaune over to that line of thinking on force alone. "I have to go. I'll see you later, Jaune."

With that, and one last, wan smile, the champion left him alone with his thoughts and his earpiece.

Once she was far enough away, he took a deep breath, and made the call.

"Okay. Let's get this over with."

" _I sincerely hope y'all sort this shit out."_ Lawrence stated.

 _"If this doesn't work, I'm going to shoot him,"_ Sophie added, far too cheerily to match what she'd actually said.

 _"I might let you. Declan, you got him?"_

* * *

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Declan muttered into his comms. "I'm on my damn way. Don't rush."

" 's'all that about?" Adam asked, his voice still as groggy and half-awake as it was when Declan got a hold of him. He was normally quite the early bird- hell, he prided himself on being up before the sun most days- but something about today in particular felt… _off_.

"Somethin' we wanted to talk to you about as a team," Declan replied.

"Horse shite. We never talk as a team."

"Alright, damn, you got me. Boy wants to talk to you."

"What 'boy'?"

"Take a wild motherfuckin' guess, Adam. The boy you've been calling yellow and treating like shit for the past almost week. I personally agree with you, but, um… apparently he wants to talk shit out."

Adam didn't have any words. He doubted he'd have any when they got to wherever Jaune was, and he _highly_ doubted that Jaune would have anything that Adam actually wanted to hear. Nevertheless, he'd humor them. He was getting tired of having to explain the situation to the men. _I have a damn good reason to be pissed. This fucking idiot sat there and practically threw his teammate and myself to the wolves. Why? He's seen scarier things than the fucking Chosen if they're telling the truth._

"Can't imagine what he wants to talk about," Adam said, knowing full and damn well what the boy wanted to talk about, but he'd try to play coy anyway. Declan didn't buy it.

"You must think I'm stupid. I may be crazy, boss man, but I _ain't_ stupid. If it were me, I'd want a fight."

"Well, he's certainly not going to win a fight with me, Declan."

"You say that, buuuuuuuut~" Declan trailed off, tapping his temple. "He's a bit tougher than he looks."

"I'd be more worried if his beta orbiter was hanging around him."

"Nah, she left, I think. If she didn't, then you're _totally_ fucked. She hates, you, man."

"Good, I don't particularly like her, either."

"You don't really like anybody."

"That's not true, but even if it was, I'd like them the least."

"You are such a bitter, angry man, Adam, my god!" Declan exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's like you hate everything so much that it loops around to self-hatred, and then it does another loop around to hating everything that makes you hate yourself!"

"That makes absolutely zero sense," Adam said, "and I think you might have killed a few of my brain cells."

"Good, now I move on to the rest of you."

Adam smirked, and shook his head. "You can't tell me you're their new best friend now."

"Meh. I'm probably the only person on this boat who doesn't care if they're here or not. Things changed when they came on board, certainly, but now they're not getting any special accommodations or anything. They're just roughin' it with us. Shit, give 'em a few months and we'll feel like they've been here forever."

"Maybe. I still don't like it. Sure, they're not exactly betraying us," the Welshman admitted, " but Jaune's a liability. The man can barely stand up without pissing himself, it seems, and has to have his bloody girlfriend prop him up. Ren's competent, I'll give him that, and when Nora isn't getting the juice from an ADVENT DNA-lock she's pretty damn good at her job..."

"So what you're telling me is you just don't like Jaune and Pyrrha," Declan surmised. "Yeah, I'm not any of them's biggest fan either. But, y'know, they didn't HAVE to fight for their room and board. Yet here they are."

"It's not that. Think about it. They all came through a portal, and so did that Grimm thing. What the hell else are they gonna bring with them? Are we going to turn into a fucking boarding house, Declan? " Adam asked. "We can't keep doing this. We can't get them home and focus on protecting them and their people, AND focus on taking down ADVENT at the same time."

Truth be told, he couldn't find much against Pyrrha and Jaune outside of this issue, but this issue was quite a fucking stickler. The only thing that made him more sick to his stomach than a weak link getting carried far beyond the point of reason, was someone willingly carrying him that far. Still… he was almost envious of it. He wished XCOM still had that kind of camaraderie, instead of the odd clique here and there the teams had formed.

Then again, XCOM didn't tolerate weak links. You pulled your weight or you went home.

"I dunno. But it ain't their fault if something else shows up when they're away, really," Declan retorted. "Anyhow, it's about time. I'll leave you two to kiss and make up on your own."

The walk up the stairs was a short one, and Adam found himself throwing himself at the door if only to get this garbage over with quicker. He wasn't in any mood to play nice.

The doors opened to a crisp Great Lakes evening. The sun was approaching its afternoon crescendo, tongues of yellow and orange bleeding through the clouds as Adam searched for his target- _target is a horrible way of looking at this, I'm not trying to kill him. Just wake him up._

What was it his old man had called these things? "Come to Jesus moments." This was just an attempt at giving Jaune one of those.

Said blonde outsider was kneeling near the edge of the Avenger's deck, looking out over Humanity Falls as the small settlement bathed in orange and gold light.

"Pretty view, eh?" Adam asked, attempting to keep the edge out of his voice. "Say what you want about America, but it's got lovely country."

Jaune looked back over his shoulder apprehensively, his nervousness etched into his features clearly even from this distance. "Oh. Really?"

"Aye. Would be better if we weren't constantly running away from it." The Welshman strode over to Jaune's side, but didn't sit down, instead opting to look down at the boy from above.

"What's your problem with me?" Jaune suddenly blurted. Adam was taken aback- the boy wasn't at all forward, in his experience. Was he actually _that_ scared of him? Impressive.

"I could be here all day if I started running down everything I saw wrong with you, lad. But, that's not what we're here to do, I reckon. What do you _think_ my problem is?" Adam folded his arms and scowled at the sun, as if he could will it past the horizon just by glaring at it.

"It's about the whole Chosen thing, isn't it?"

"Aye. That's it." Adam sighed, and dropped to one knee next to Jaune. Standing up next to him was an intimidating gesture, certainly, but it was hell on his legs and he was damntired of looking down. "What were you thinking, lad?"

"What was I supposed to do, get up and fight that thing without a weapon?"

"Your girlfriend did, and she's fine. Probably wouldn't have gotten hurt if you'd jumped in with us."

Jaune blanched, and his left hand curled into a fist over his knee. "First of all, partner, not girlfriend. Second of all? Not true. I'm dead weight in a fight anyway-"

"Oh, put a fucking sock in it, boy," Adam ordered, biting down in an attempt to stem the flow of vitriol that was threatening to boil over. "You're bigger than she is, you're broader, and if you actually put some meat on your bones you'd have a good five or six stone on her. You'd have probably kept us both out of a sight more trouble, but you didn't want to risk your own neck."

"That's not what-" Jaune started, his pitch rising and voice quivering just enough to give Adam an opening.

"Don't give me that shite. You couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag, so it falls to your friends to do the hard work for you, is that it? Or do you actually have an excuse?"

"Alright, fine! I was… you know, freaked out. That's it. If you were stuck somewhere you've never been before in your life, fighting things you've never seen before, you'd be scared too."

"I certainly wouldn't just sit there and _wait_ for it. But that's exactly what I saw you do. You know what my problem with you is, boy? It's not that you're an alien, fuck no, I'm convinced I'm more alien DNA than human at this point. It's not that you're not like me, and it's certainly not because of your bloody personality. It's because you're _yellow._ " Adam leaned over, and gave the young man's shoulder a shove. "You're telling me that the four of you are supposed to be defending people, and you don't even have the bollocks to defend yourself?"

"I-" Jaune started.

" _I_ am not finished yet," Adam interrupted, his anger now all-encompassing. He'd been keeping a bit on it the best he could, but this was genuinely upsetting to him. "How are you going to defend your people, defend your world, when you can't even stand up and fight alongside your bloody partner? It's fucking pathetic. You…"

The Welshman stopped himself, taking a deep breath. He didn't need a fight. Not today. He said he'd do better by them, and he would.

"You need to get your shit together. You're supposed to be a leader, and the other day you threw your teammates under the bus."

"I didn't mean-" Jaune started again. Adam was getting tired of this whole thing, despite being the one who started it. Besides, if he kept at this, there was no telling where the barely-concealed anger would take him next.

"WHETHER YOU MEANT IT OR NOT," Adam growled, grabbing the boy by the scruff on the back of his neck and holding him still, "you did! You have a responsibility as a leader, the same as I do, and when the chips were down, you threw your responsibility away. I may not be you and Pyrrha's commanding officer, but the moment I had my head right, I was jumping back into the fight, while you sat there and watched. If that isn't a fucking contrast I don't have the foggiest what is. You're supposed to be defending your home from far scarier things than that Chosen. Buck up, or fuck off."

Jaune had no response, simply staring wide-eyed at Adam while the latter glowered back at him. If looks could kill, then Jaune would have two holes in his head right about now. His point made, the veteran let go and gave Jaune some breathing room, standing up and walking towards the door back into the Avenger.

"Good talk," he stated sarcastically, "glad we understand each other."

* * *

Grace idly scrolled past image after image on the duty roster. The screen on her left contained said roster, while the one on the right held a blank field, with six empty spaces.

"Alright, voice in my head…" the Commander muttered, "gimme something good."

' _And tell me, Commander, what exactly I'm supposed to give you,'_ the voice asked. Grace was starting to hate this thing more and more the longer it stuck around in her head. She wasn't crazy, she really wasn't. There was more to this than just some PTSD episode or a hallucination. Things like this didn't just… happen. Plus this voice knew things about XCOM that she'd never even been made privy of.

Apparently, she had a damn Ethereal in her head. One that had been camping out on two planets recently.

"Oh, I dunno, you're the one who told me to completely restructure the team behind this operation, so I figured you'd have a good idea of something to _replace_ it," she hissed, smacking the table in frustration. "Just give me something to work with."

 _'You already have something. The children.'_

"Alright, alright. That's' four. Who else?"

As Grace shuffled through the duty roster (the kids weren't on it, so there was no point in putting them there), the voice in her head was silent.

"I said, who else?"

 _'I cannot give you EVERYTHING, Grace Cheng.'_

"Ugh… okay… Roderick and Wesley know about the Black Site. They're on." The Commander dragged the image of the dark-haired actor and the bright-eyed photographer to the last two slots. "We probably need to test the Kinetic Barrier, too…" With that, Phil was added in front of them.

 _'You will need someone the children trust. Someone that they will fight for, and that will fight for them.'_

That one answered itself pretty quickly. Jerry's photo smiled at Grace from the screen as she dragged it next to the CO slot.

"If this Blacksite is as well-defended as I think it will be, we're gonna need explosives. Lots of explosives," Grace muttered. With that, she began to drag Joseph Walker's image next to Jerry's.

 _'NO.` the_ voice demanded. _'Not this one.'_

"Why not Joseph, he's a good pick for the job. Explosives, knowledge of ADVENT tech and systems, and he has a good relationship with pretty much everyone on the ship, so no operational friction."

 _'If I tell you why he cannot be chosen, you will not choose at all. Choose another.'_

"What the hell kind of cryptic bullshit is that?" Grace asked, turning to look at... _well, I feel fucking stupid, there's nothing to look at_.

' _Do not mock yourself. It is stressful to grow accustomed to a 'voice in your head'. Regardless, I must insist, choose another._ '

The only other Grenadier there was to choose from was Jack Sagole-Shaw, so Grace chose him. She then moved on to the CO block, which was empty. "Alright, so, if you're telling me the truth and this is the op that the kids make it home on, then I should probably send Remi. He's one of our infiltrators-"

 _'No one shall cross the threshold after the children. If you do, you will be followed, and it will be death for both of your worlds.'_

"... okay, okay, sheesh. If Remi's not going through, then who should I send?"

 _'You know who must lead. It is the only man they will all follow. The children included.'_

That meant no Adam. Phil couldn't stand the Welshman, and Hitman team's members would probably buck under him plenty. Remi probably couldn't be trusted not to just bull through the portal immediately, and the kids didn't know Wolf Mother from Adam (the biblical Adam, of course). That only left one.

She slowly dragged Murphy's image into the CO block, and the screen flashed green. Seemed like the system didn't find any glaring concerns.

Suddenly, the screen minimized, and a video feed to the Med-Bay came up. Jerry adjusted the screen momentarily, the grainy quality and loud ambient noise making it clear this was M3R-C's camera. _"Hey, Commander! Commander, you read?"_

"I read you, Jerry, what's going on?" she replied, sitting back up straight.

"It's the kids. You're gonna wanna come to the Medbay ASAP. Their Auras are working again."


	22. Chapter 22

_20 minutes before the Blacksite Raid_

Everyone involved in Operation: Go Home was glad that it wasn't a morning op, none more so than Jerry Hall, who managed to **finally** knock back a full night's sleep on the day before.

He'd been putting the finishing touches on the paint jobs for the new Predator armor. Was it a waste of time? He didn't think so, though plenty of people probably did,especially his latest 'passion project'.

The fourth of the fresh-off-the-press armor suits sat in front of him as he polished off the last of the decals on it. Due to not having an actual reference in hand, putting those four emblems on each suit of armor was painful, but not impossible, and he was rather satisfied with the results. The first suit of armor was gaunt and almost gleaming white with a sigil of the moon crooked just off of the right breastplate and a knight's helm on the center of the back, where the national identifier would have been. The next suit was blood red, like its future wearer's hair, and displayed two symbols in a similar arrangement - a white spear piercing a golden circle on the left breastplate, and a pair of green-gold hummingbirds on the back (Jerry didn't have a particular reason for picking hummingbirds other than to test his skill at creating a gradient, but he was satisfied with the results the longer he thought about it). The third suit was a dull green, with a facsimile of a lotus leaf in pink spanning the two breastplates, meeting at the center, and a pair of intertwined dragons, also pink, on the back. The final suit was white with a similar obverse graphic to the red suit, save for the replacement of the spear with a hammer, and another pair of hammers, the heads wreathed in lightning, that spanned the entire back.

Had he spent four hours on suits of armor for people that probably were going to use them less times than he could count on his fingers? Yes. Did he regret that he didn't use that time more wisely? A little bit. Still, he was doing something with his spare time, which was far better than moping over the looming op.

He wasn't quite sure what was going through Grace's head. The duty roster for this mission was quite the odd one. Normally, intra-team operations were a waste of manpower, and with the lack of synergy between a lot of the team members, it seemed to be almost impossible to keep the different groups on the same page. Yet here Grace was, smashing Assassin, Hitman, Menace, and Stalker into one not-quite cohesive unit, on top of having all four of the kids involved.

The Skyranger only had eight seats. This was going to be an awkward ride, especially for Phil. Big guy, small seats. Not a good combination. Still, Jerry couldn't complain _too_ much. At least Wolf Mother wasn't on the op, working with her would be a real pain in the ass. Roderick and Murphy he'd take a bullet for in a heartbeat. Phil was a good man, especially when he wasn't trying to cover for Remi's flaws. Jack was crazy, but he was damn good at what he did. Wesley was… well, Wesley was Wesley, but Jerry wouldn't hold that against him. The medic could think of far worse teams right off the top of his head, and most of them began or ended with Adam Jones.

Speaking of his team for the mission, big Phil had been watching him paint. The goliath Frenchman and Jerry rarely interacted, which was a mistake that the latter wanted to remedy one day, but never quite had the time or reason to. In a ship full of noise, Jerry found that Phil was quite the bastion of peace and quiet, considering that no one was going to chance setting off the big man if he said that he wanted you to shut up.

"It is very good, Corporal," Phil said, finally speaking up for what felt like the first time in a solid 20 minutes. "You have a talent."

"Coulda went to art school, but painting doesn't pay the bills," Jerry replied, now tapering off the last inch of Ren's lotus design. Pink was a color that rarely got used around here, that was for sure.

"Maybe you can do it when the war is over."

"...yeah," Jerry agreed, the hesitation visibly upsetting Phil. Jerry really tried to be optimistic sometimes, but it came much more naturally to people like Phil.

"Someday," Phil assured him. "Someday, it will." The big man had turned his attention away from Jerry's work, and instead focused on his helmet. Out of all the guys on the op, Phil was the only one whom was already kitted up and ready to go - gun, grenade launcher, ugly new helmet, armor - the whole nine yards. Jerry himself was still doing a bit of painting, so he'd left the top half of his armor off and instead just thrown on the bodysuit and the legs. Now that he was about done it was probably time to get moving.

"Okay, big guy. You ready for this?" Jerry asked, standing up with a grunt of exertion as he rolled the tension out of his wrists, and turning his attention towards the storage area of the armory, where his new kit would be. Shen told him they'd gotten him a custom-made carbine based on the mag rifle tech, and he was eager to get his hands on the thing.

"As ready as one can be for something like this," Phil answered. "It will be strange working with another team, but I will not complain."

"Can't speak for everyone else, Philly, but I'm glad to have you. Nice to have a big guy around to make sure stuff goes to plan," Jerry assured him, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder. At over six and a half feet, even taller than Murphy, looking at Phil was like staring up a mountain. Then again, considering the fact that he was only just 5'9", all of the other guys towered over Jerry. "How's that shield feel?"

Phil examined the large bracer on his arm, and shrugged. "It will work."

The two walked into the armory storage, Phil immediately grabbing the salvaged ADVENT turret cannon he'd taken to using. That part still threw Jerry for a loop; it hit harder than any other weapon XCOM had at the moment, but it weighed so much that he could hardly believe Phil was able to carry it one-handed. Something caught Phil's eye, and the big man grabbed a short, bulky-looking carbine with a green polymer body and tossed it at Jerry. The medic was barely able to catch the thing, fumbling about awkwardly in his attempt to keep his fingers off the trigger.

"Jesus, Phil!"

"I assume that is the weapon you were given. It said 'stuttermag' on the rack," Phil explained, pointing to the rack in question. Jerry looked at it, noting the row of mostly identical prototypes. There was one with red finish (probably Sophie's) and another with a wolf's skull painted in white on the barrel assembly, but other than that, a solid, imposing wall of matte black.

"Oh, yeah. Stuttermag." That _was_ what the Commander had told Jerry to look for, at least. The thing was about as much an SMG as Jerry was a soldier; it was being far too generous to either subject. _Then again, at least the SMG does its fucking job,_ he thought to himself. He found it funny sometimes that the only real field medic XCOM had spent more time on the injured reserve than his patients. Of course, most of his patients had a lovely habit of dying before he could do anything for them, which only seemed to prove his point more. Shit, if he wasn't in the field, he was always painting this, or drawing, or sitting in the infirmary with whoever was on death's door that day, or occasionally spending time talking about nothing with Sophie and wondering if there was a better life waiting for them. Then, when it came time to get into the field, he just shot things and tried to keep everyone alive.

Easy to break, barely serviceable at its intended function, really just altogether useless. Yep, this was _his_ gun alright.

"Yep, that's it," Jerry replied. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. Now, let us go, your squad is probably waiting in the GTS. Planning, and all that."

"Yeah, good plan." Jerry grabbed his own helmet off of the armor racks already in the storage room, and put it on. Bulky, ugly, and stuffy, but hopefully this one wouldn't split like an egg if he got hit. Phil was already on his way out the door, his heavy footfalls echoing like cannon fire through the cluttered storage room before slowly fading as he made his way back into the armory proper. Soon, it was silent. Just Jerry, his gun, and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"Good plan."

* * *

The GTS was packed almost to the gills. Running this big of an op had its disadvantages, primarily on the 'people' front. As a matter of fact, there was a whole second squad beside the operation team, which didn't exactly set Jerry at ease. Having two teams on standby for a single op meant, in his mind, that the first team had a very reasonable chance of failing.

Grace wasn't present this time, which was equally disconcerting. Only Bradford and Stark stood at the front of the room, near the screen, which already had the display of the mission area up. Snow-covered, rocky Appalachia as far as the eye could see. Not a good place to be stuck behind enemy lines.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Bradford began, pointing to the screen, "This is the ADVENT Blacksite we've been gathering intel on for the past month and a half, heretofore known as 'Baseplate'. Baseplate's been on the docket for the Resistance for a long time- we've had multiple attempts to hit the facility by local resistance factions in the Appalachian region over the past decade, including one that involved two of our current operatives. With that in mind, Private Van Pey and Corporal Braddock will be your eyes and ears for this operation going forward- I don't care if the sky is falling down around you, if they say the best way in is point A, then you best get your ass to point A. "

Roderick looked satisfied with himself, while Wesley just looked about as skittish as he normally did.

"This operation is of utmost importance to the Resistance as a whole, so we've got two teams on standby." Bradford continued. "If our A-team isn't able to take out the blacksite without sustaining heavy casualties, Menace Team and Colonel Collins will be on standby with Firebrand. Firebrand will pick up the A-Team, and Menace will hit the facility with extreme prejudice. Keep in mind, this is only in the worst case scenario. If we can pull this off in one fell swoop, we need to. Stark, you said you have a message from the Commander?"

"Yes, Central Officer." The communications officer stepped forward and examined his PDA. "According to Corporal Hall and Doctor Tygan, we can confirm that Team JNPR's 'Auras' are back at full functionality. In order to test the capabilities of this 'Aura', we'll be adding them to the operational force's primary strike team, hereafter known as 'Home Run'."

Bradford nodded, and turned his attention back to the screen as he fiddled with his own PDA to change the display. Stark stepped back, and turned his attention to the Central Officer as well.

"Your objectives are as follows," Bradford began, turning his attention to Roderick and the rest of 'Home Run'. "Home Run, you are to infiltrate the Blacksite, retrieve any intel you can as to the purpose of the 'Avatar Project', then set X-4 charges on critical points-" He motioned to the various points marked on the facility, each one glowing green as he touched it." -and destroy the facility. Once the charges are set, eliminate all hostile contacts in your way and evacuate the site. Keep concealment for as long as possible, but don't be afraid to get in a scrap if there are no other options. We'll need to hit this one hard and fast." Bradford then looked over at Adam and Menace Team (minus Jack, of course). "Menace, you're to remain on standby until Firebrand returns from the dropoff, then loiter over the AO until you're needed. In the event of an emergency, hit the facility hard - damn the intel, focus on destroying it. Does anyone have any questions?"

"Central Officer!" Phil called out.

"Corporal Richard."

"Exactly what does this 'Aura' do?"

"Good question. Would a member of Team JNPR care to explain in layman's terms?"

Pyrrha almost immediately volunteered herself, standing up ramrod straight and looking at Phil. " Our Auras, in simple terms, allow us to regenerate from non-fatal wounds much quicker than an individual without Aura. They provide the power for our healing abilities and Semblances."

"I see. Thank you." Phil nodded to the red-headed young woman. "No further questions."

"Anyone else?" Bradford asked.

"How long until ADVENT starts bringing in friends? We're not gonna be able to pull this off completely silent," Jack spoke up.

"The Appalachia Site is isolated, and we picked a time that coincides with a major storm pattern moving in through the mountains. Aircraft will have a harder time getting into the area and comms will be spotty, but that goes for both sides. We're closer to the Blacksite than the nearest ADVENT city center, so our comms will likely remain unaffected by the weather, but ideally the storm should buy you a few extra minutes once the shooting starts. Anything else?"

"No, sir," Jack replied, resting his arms over the barrel of his cannon. "Hope this is worth it."

"It will be," Murphy said, turning his attention to his fellow grenadier. "I'm fiendin' to know about this Avatar project as much as anybody else on this boat."

"Aye," Adam agreed. "I'll sleep better at night knowing what we're up against."

"Cut the chatter. One thing you all need to know," Bradford interrupted, turning away from the screen and looking back at the assembled. "I won't be mission control on this one. Commander Cheng has been given official and complete execute authority for this operation."

There wasn't an immediate response to that. While the Commander had been the overall guiding force for XCOM since her return from captivity, according to veterans like Zeke, Bradford, and Adam, she'd not been in direct control of operations on the ground level since the Invasion. This operation really _was_ that important.

"You're on the clock in 10 minutes, people- ready up, Operation: Go Home is officially on the board." Bradford turned off the screen, and the lights in the GTS flickered back on, bathing the room in fluorescent off-white. There was a clamor as the mass of assembled operators (Team JNPR included) attempted to cram their way out of the room, and Jerry couldn't help but think about how tight the fit would be on the Skyranger.

* * *

Jaune couldn't stop thinking about how tight the fit was on the Skyranger.

This thing apparently had a ten-person capacity, but someone had not accounted for anyone being bigger than 6 foot and wider than a plank, because everyone was packed in like sardines. Murphy and Phil, the two biggest of the team, actually had to stand, lest they be smashed into the walls by the tight seating arrangement. The new armor didn't help matters much; while Team JNPR made it abundantly clear how much they appreciated the extra protection, the stuff was really, really bulky. Pyrrha and Nora seemed particularly uncomfortable with their new gear- it looked way too small on the former in particular. Then again, Pyrrha was almost as tall as Jaune, and a good bit more muscular. Anything would probably fit awkwardly on her.

"You okay?" Jaune asked, trying to be heard over the whipping wind. "You look kinda tense."

"I'm fine, Jaune. This armor just takes some getting used to," Pyrrha replied.

"Yeah, this stuff CLEARLY wasn't designed for women, you know?" Nora added with a frown, folding her arms over her chest. "How the heck are you supposed to breathe in this?" she asked, immediately pointing to Pyrrha, who responded by leaning back, her eyes widening and cheeks flushing. "Especially you, Pyrrha, with your-"

"This wind is a BITCH!" Firebrand shouted from the cockpit, and Jaune watched Pyrrha let out a relieved exhale. Indeed, the turbulence was very much threatening to Jaune's tenuous grip on his lunch. "Did we really have to set up shop in the middle of a damned thunderstorm?"

"It'll certainly help with the concealment part." Jerry called back, barely audible over the turbulence even right next to Jaune. Speaking of, the medic's attention turned to him, and he motioned to the… well… the bucket. "You good, buddy?"

"I'm fine."

"Better to get it over with when you're not getting shot at."

"I said I'm fine."

"Suit yourself."

"What's our ETA?" Murphy was the closest to the cockpit, so he didn't have to raise his voice that much. As a side effect, his voice sounded like a whisper compared to everyone else.

"Minute and counting." Firebrand replied.

"Alright, then. Hey, JNPR," Jack called back. "You know how to rappel?"

"Not really." Jaune replied.

"I don't think we'll need to, we have our own way down!" Ren spoke up.

"Don't tell me you're doing it again." Roderick's grin was audible even in his voice. "If you're actually doing it, I am _so_ gonna laugh when you break an ankle."

"That probably won't happen." Ren replied. "Probably…"

"Wait, what are you going to do?" Wesley asked, his eyes darting between the members of JNPR in rapid succession.

"Ohhhh, this is gonna be so cool," Nora assured him, elbowing his shoulder. The burn wounds on her arms were still visible, and she was noticeably less exuberant and energetic than usual. "We do this all the time, you'll see, Whitney."

"Wesley, for the fifth fucking time, Wesley!" the man protested. "Next time you go to fry your brain on an ADVENT gun, please let me know so I can smack you myself."

Ren cut his eyes at Wesley, and the silent _'I will fuck you up'_ seemed to be conveyed pretty well. Wesley leaned back in his seat, and looked straight ahead, obviously rattled.

"Getting real tired of having to shout, can we turn on our frickin' comms?" Jerry asked over the din.

"Right, right... " Murphy raised his hand and started fooling with his communicator. When he spoke up again, Jaune could hear his voice crackling in his right ear. _"Check."_

 _"Apache, check,"_

Phil followed.

 _"Van Pey, check!"_

 _"Peacemaker, check."_

 _"Braddock, check."_

 _"Jack, check. Alien kiddos!"_

 _"Nikos, check."_

 _"Ren, check."_

 _"Nora Valkyrie, reeeeeeeee-porting for duty."_

A subdued sigh came from someone, but Jaune wasn't sure who.

 _"Arc, check_ ," he quickly responded.

 _"Much better, I can hear myself think now,"_ Jerry said. _"So, where's the facility relative to the drop zone?"_

 _"It's gonna be straight downhill from a small rock outcropping we'll be landing on. When we're ready to roll, we head down, and attempt to sneak through the buildings to hit the rest of the complex. It's an off day, so there are no civilians on-site. If it moves, it's hostile,"_

Murphy explained. _"Commander, that sound right?"_

 _"Yep, you got it, Captain,"_

came the response from Grace. _" Alright, team, let's keep this above the board. No unnecessary risks, no stupid plays, let's all come home in one piece."_

 _"Landing time motherfuckers, off my aircraft so I can get the hell out of this storm!"_

Firebrand called, and Jaune saw that she was visibly leaning out of her seat to shoo them off. There was a sudden lurch as the aircraft began to hover in place, and with it, Jaune's stomach leapt into his throat. He would have face-planted into Murphy's gut, too, if the bigger man hadn't pushed him back into his seat.

 _"And that's why you wear the damn seatbelt. Alright, everyone pile out; Phil, you first, then me. After that, sort it yourselves. Let's rock."_

With that, the door of the aircraft started to open, and the rappel lines rapidly shot down the gantry and out into the open air. Phil immediately grabbed a hold of the first one and began his descent, and Murphy followed immediately after. Wesley was the next one out, grasping the next line with both hands as he hopped out. Nora went right after him, not even bothering to grab the line as she sent herself careening out of the Skyranger.

 _"Glad to see she's sorta back to normal,"_ Jerry said.

 _"This isn't anywhere near her normal,"_ Pyrrha corrected him as she stood up. _"After you, Roderick."_

 _"SYOTOS, sister!"_

With that, Roderick took off sprinting towards the exit and swung onto one of the rappel lines like a Spider-Faunus or something. Pyrrha was right behind him, taking a more measured stride before hopping out of the aircraft. Jack all but shoved Ren ahead of him, sending the second-to-last of Team JNPR out. and Jack followed soon after.

 _"Come on, Jaune, you've got a date with gravity,"_ Jerry said, dragging the blonde up to his feet and patting him on the back of the head. Jaune certainly felt a bit better about his landing strategy now that he had Aura, at least. _"You first, I don't need you bonking me on the head."_

Jaune nodded, and steeled himself. He hated the sensation of flying, but falling was almost just as bad.

He took off running, and jumped.

The first thing he felt when he got out of the Skyranger was that the wind was _much_ stronger outside. There was also the fact that one of the rappel lines had snapped, and was trailing its way down to the ground, whipping in the wind as Jaune flew past it. Also, the ground looked a bit too rocky for a good landing-

Jaune's train of thought was interrupted by the vicious feeling of hurtling into the ground at a solid 30 miles an hour, cracking the stone and sending shards of rock into his aura and the air around him. His Aura took the blow for him, but it was jarring, regardless, and there was always a moment or two of pain before the healing fully kicked in.

 _"Jesus Christ!"_ Wesley shouted, visibly recoiling at Jaune's landing.

 _"HA! I told you, this is the craziest shit I've ever seen! And they do this for a LIVING, dude!"_ Roderick said. _"These guys are fucking insane!"_

 _"If you think that was a big jump, you would have loved initiation_

, _"_ Nora replied.

 _"Cut the chatter, Rod. You good?"_

Murphy asked.

 _"I'm good, I'm good,"_ Jaune assured him. He was, other than the sudden disorientation when he stood back up, brushing himself off and observing the new gouges and scrapes on his armor.

 _"Everyone else?"_

 _"Tether snapped in the wind, but I'm good,"_

Jack responded, rolling his shoulder. _"Just a little love tap from the mountainside, you know how it is."_

 _"Alright, team, advance to the lip of the outcropping,"_

Grace ordered. _"There's good cover there, and you can survey the landscape before you make the hit. Once you've coordinated a plan of action, I want you all radio silent."_

 _"Affirmative."_

 _"Hey, kids, if you can hear this, do not respond, we're on a secure channel,"_

Grace continued. _"Listen, it's a long story, but if my intel is right, you're going home today. Above all else, when you see the opportunity to leave, go for it. I've already briefed Murphy on the situation, he'll make sure you guys get out."_ Well, that was… Jaune didn't know how to feel. Part of him was in disbelief, another wanted to jump for joy, and another felt a sense of… was that dread? His eyes turned to his partner, who was looking at him with a similar look of surprise. Pyrrha seemed just as lost for response as he was.

 _"Oi, you four, let's get moving,"_ Murphy said. _"We need a plan."_

Jaune shook his head, and followed Murphy's lead, the rest of the team already at the ridge. Jaune slid to a stop next to Jerry, who'd laid behind a fallen tree and rested his gun on the trunk.

 _"What's on the scope, boss?"_ Jerry asked, peeking his head up from behind his cover.

 _"Two buildings. First one's small- large floor plan, but only one floor, looks like a processing center for the rail yard running through the center. There's the rail yard, and what I assume is the actual target building on the other side of it,"_ Murphy explained. His hat was barely on his head at this point, only remaining on his person by virtue of him holding on to it with his free hand. _"Commander, what do you advise?"_

 _"Hit the processing center first, I want to make sure we don't get any surprises from the back end when we get inside,"_

Grace replied. _"Keep it quiet if you can."_

 _"We can do quiet,"_

Phil said.

 _"Got it, Commander. We'll move in now."_ With that, Murphy turned back to look at the rest of the squad, his eyes first coming to rest on Jaune. _"Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, you hang back with Phil, Jack, Jerry, and Wes. Keep a loose tail, but stay hidden. Ren, you and Roderick come with me. We're gonna go see what all the fuss is about. Comms off, we're going silent."_

With that, Murphy gripped his hat again and started down the side of the rock face, sliding to a halt a good ten or fifteen feet down the slope. The angle wasn't that steep, so Ren was able to simply run down, while Roderick chose to not risk tripping, and slid down behind him. Soon, everyone else followed, with Jaune bringing up the rear.

The facility couldn't be but ten feet away now, and Jaune could see ADVENT troops patrolling around it.

"How many?" Jerry whispered.

"I see three," Jaune replied.

"Four. There's one in the window of that building there, maybe more inside," Jack corrected him. "No way we can get around 'em, there's way too many to take them down silently. What's the play?"

"If we can't get around them, we go through them, but we do it fast," Murphy replied. "No explosives, no heavy weapons. Jaune, take your team and go clear that building with Phil and Jerry. We'll deal with the ones out here."

Jaune nodded. "Okay, you got it."

Jaune shuffled off to the side of the entry road as fast as he could, the sound of his feet against the rocks far too loud for his liking as he attempted to sneak around the side of the entrance building. Between Nora and Phil's thundering tread, his own loud footsteps, and everyone else, it sounded like a truck was passing through. The fact that no one sounded any kind of alarm would astound Jaune for all his days.

"You know what 'stack up' means, right?" Jerry asked.

"Uh…" Jaune started. He did, but he wasn't sure he had the correct 'stack up' in context here.

"Take two, go on one side of the door," Phil explained. "We take one on the other side. Ren, come here."

Ren did as asked, and followed Phil's direction to the side of the door. Jaune went to the other side, with Nora and Pyrrha behind him.

"Okay... " Jerry muttered, giving his weapon a forceful smack and raising it to point at the door.

"Jaune, the moment you walk in the door, put your shield up," Pyrrha quietly instructed him. "If they heard us, they'll be waiting."

"Alright, I'm gonna have Mercy open the door," Jerry said, motioning for his little drone follower to do its thing. The machine simply floated in front of Jaune, beeping and whirring as a small screen popped up out of the back. "Sweet, we're in. Ready, Jaune?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Ren nodded at him, before turning his eyes back to the door.

"3. 2. 1. Go!"

The door swung open, and Jaune immediately stepped into the doorway, raising his shield as Ren pointed Stormflower over his head. There were 5 total ADVENT in the room, and before they even registered anything at the door, Ren had put a round through the head of two of them.

"Push in!" Phil barked from behind them, and Jaune rushed forward. One of the ADVENT troops was standing at a terminal just in front of him, with his back to the door, so Jaune's charge ended up pushing him forcefully into the terminal with a loud, warbling cry. A few more shots from Stormflower, and the rest of the room was silent.

"Freakin' ninja, dude," Jerry muttered from behind him.

"I've been told I'm a decent shot," Ren replied.

Jaune backed away from the downed ADVENT in front of him as gunshots rang out from the outside. Murphy and the rest must have taken this as their cue to start shooting at the ones on the road.

"That one's not dead," Phil stated, walking towards Jaune. "You always leave the job half finished?"

Ren immediately raised his pistol again and fired, and a splash of warm, orange blood hit Jaune's legs. ' _Well, at least it's armor, and not my jeans…'_

Phil slowly turned back to look at Ren, his expression hidden by his helmet.

Any attempt at conversation between the two equally reserved men was interrupted by Roderick running up to one of the windows of the building, smacking the glass impatiently. "You guys good?"

"All good." Jerry called back.

With that, Roderick grabbed a firm hold of the buttstock of his weapon, and smashed the window to pieces.

"Come on, let's hurry this shit up, we probably let everyone know exactly where we are!"

* * *

Aboard the Avenger, Grace monitored the mission area from the wide-screen terminal in the bridge. Things seemed pretty normal thus far. The team had managed to get inside the complex, and the Blacksite hadn't raised a full alarm yet.

 _I can do this. I can do this._

There was a sudden whine from the terminal. The screen flashed red, and the words "PSIONIC INTERFERENCE DETECTED" flashed with them.

"Fuck me…" Grace muttered, looking around the map. It looked like the signal was coming from just outside the battle area.

Then, _another_ signal popped up.

"Alright, you piece of shit, was this part of the plan?"

 _'... not necessarily, no,'_ replied the voice in her head.

* * *

 _"Murphy, we've got a problem,"_ Grace stated, her voice strained to the point that it was obvious she was holding back _something_.

Murphy could only assume that the pillar of violet light coming down from the sky was involved in that problem.

"Yeah, boss, think I caught that," he said. "What is it?"

 _"It matches Adam's reports about the Chosen's preferred method of entry. I think it's in the AO."_

"Fuck me dead, how does it know we're here?"

 _"I don't know, but stay focused on the objective. There's a second psionic warp signal near the facility, I think that might be the ticket out of here this… thing in my head was talking about."_

"And you're sure I can work with that?" He didn't want to say anything that gave too much away outright, the men didn't need to know this. Quite simply, they'd think Grace was crazy. At this point, though, if she was crazy for believing a random voice in her head that told her she could get the kids home, then Murphy would be crazy right along with her.

 _"I_ _ **know**_ _, Murphy. Just get them there once you get what you need from the Blacksite. There's still no base alarm, but I see movement in the rail yard. Looks like a patrol coming your way to investigate."_

"Copy that, keep me updated." With that, Murphy got off comms and looked at his team. Everyone was getting restless, especially Jack. He was on that op where they first met the Chosen. "You good, Jack?"

"No. No, I'm _fucking_ not, Murph. That thing's gonna kick our collective ass if we don't book it right now."

"Well then, let's get moving. Commander says there's contacts in the train yard, so keep your eyes and your guns up. Let's double-time it, come on!"

Murphy took off, lugging his cannon after him as he took point. He wasn't liking the idea of having to tussle with the Chosen, taking out this facility, and getting the kids out of dodge all at the same time, but as they say, everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. If it were any other situation, he'd just say 'torch it' now and get the hell out, but this operation was too important. Plus, the damn wind. He doubted Firebrand would be able to fly straight in this shit weather.

Sure enough, there were ADVENT coming from the train yard. A Sectoid, and three ADVENT troopers. They noticed Murphy just as he noticed them. Lucky him, everyone on his team seemed to be on the ball today. Pyrrha's rifle cracked behind him, and the Sectoid stumbled backwards, missing a large portion of its rather prominent skull, while Jerry's new SMG let fly with a burst of reddish-orange, the shots carving through one of the ADVENT like butter. The other two seemed to see the folly of engaging ten heavily armed hostiles at once, and immediately beat ass back to the main building.

It seemed that Pyrrha had other plans for them.

Murphy turned back when he heard the shifting and clanking of metal, and watched as Pyrrha's spear shifted into a javelin of some kind. First, the girl spun about, throwing her shield like a discus, before finishing her rotation and hurling the spear after the retreating ADVENT. A faint red glow appeared around her hand, and Murphy's attention turned to the two objects as they suddenly changed course in mid-air, each heading towards a different target as the two attempted to clear a cargo car in their path. The shield crashed directly into the head of one of the ADVENT, while her spear pierced the upper back of the other, sending him flying off the car and over to the other side of the tracks.

Roderick whistled amusedly. "Remind me not to play darts with you, Jeee-sus!"

"Nice work, Pyrrha." Murphy turned his attention back to the main building, grabbing a hold of his hat when the wind threatened to send it flying off _again._ " Let's hurry up and get this finished, we've got company coming, and I don't wanna be here when she decides to reintroduce herself."

"They have a turret network on the roof of the main building," Wesley explained at a machine-gun pace. Murphy couldn't help but be a little bit annoyed- the man talked so fast sometimes it was nearly impossible to keep up. "At least two last time I was here!"

"Right. Let's slow it down when we get to the tracks, then."

Murphy hopped onto the train, motioning for the rest of the team to stop behind him as he took a knee behind some crates. Looking up at the roof, he could already see two turrets, one on either corner of the rooftop. ADVENT was expecting trouble.

"Well, they certainly don't want anyone seeing what's in this place, huh?" Jerry mused.

"All the more reason I wanna see it," Jack replied. "So, Murphy, what's the plan?"

Murphy turned to look at the members of JNPR, then at the rest of his makeshift element. He didn't really have much to work with here. There was likely hostile contacts inside the building itself, but those turrets made breaching a nightmare. At the same time, if they took out the turrets…

"I got a plan. We take out the turrets, then we go in loud. Bust open the wall," Murphy explained, motioning towards the center of the wall closest to them. "We go in, grab what we came for, then bust another hole on the other side and run for evac."

"What about that Chosen? It's gonna come running as soon as we start making noise, if it isn't already on the way," Jerry asked.

"We can handle it," Pyrrha assured him, raising her arm. Her weapons both came flying back to her, spear landing flush in one hand while her shield braced itself against the back of the other. "With our Auras at full, we're more than a match for anything this world can throw at us."

"Well, shit, if she's so sure, I might be ready for round two myself!" Jack said, grinning ear to ear. "Besides, there's ten of us and only one of her. What could possibly go wrong?"


	23. Chapter 23

To say that they had just shot about half of the guard detail for this place would be underselling the trail of bodies left in Home Run's wake. Even with all the remaining ADVENT unaware of their presence, the Blacksite was still eerily quiet.

Jerry didn't like this kind of quiet, especially considering just how loud it was a minute ago.

The main building of the Blacksite loomed overhead, two turrets scanning the grounds in search of targets. Home Run all were huddled behind crates, barriers, and what appeared to be some sort of storage tank that, upon closer inspection from Jerry, was revealed to contain a human body.

"Jesus…" he muttered, feeling a shiver that went from his head to his toes.

"Looks like they never stopped abducting people after the invasion," Jack said, looking over at the container with a sort of deep tranquility that often preceded his more outrageous outbursts. "We're gonna rip this place to shreds."

"Once we get what we came for, you're damn right we will," Murphy assured him. "Now, let's get this done. Phil, put a grenade on the turret to the left. Jack, you put a grenade on the right. Once the turrets are gone, we go hard and fast. Stack up, then have Pyrrha bypass the manual controls on the door. While their attention is focused on that, Wesley will ambush them from the window off toward the center. Once he draws their fire, we go in."

"How come I have to be the one that draws the fire?" Wesley asked, incredulous.

"Just shut up and go with it, fuck!" Roderick whisper-yelled. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Right," Murphy agreed. "Fire at will."

Jack slung his grenade launcher off his back with one arm, dropping his cannon to the ground as he took aim at his target. Behind him, Jerry could hear Phil readying his own weapon. Two loud puffs of compressed air, and within seconds, two loud detonations.

"We got 'em?" Jack asked.

"They're not shooting back, so I assume so," Phil replied.

Jerry peeked up from behind the storage tank, and indeed, he saw smoke and flames rising from where the turrets once stood. He doubted they were gonna be much of a problem anymore.

"Alright, let's move up," Murphy ordered, and with that, they were off. Jerry braced his free arm over the top of the container, and pushed himself over, sliding over the metal and glass and falling into a dead sprint on the side of the train. He could hear the shuffling of feet and the digging of boots into the ground around him, and once he arrived at the door, he turned to see Wesley make his way to the window. He was looking even more nervous than usual. Jerry gave him a thumbs up, but the Dutchman didn't respond.

Murphy came to a halt on the other side of the door, and motioned for Jerry to get against the wall. Jaune came to a stop behind Murphy, while from the sound of it everyone else was getting behind Jerry.

"Alright. Pyrrha, open the door," Murphy said, readying his cannon. "Wesley, go loud."

Jerry saw the nervous soldier grab his weapon firmly in both hands, and aim the buttstock at the window. The first smack didn't break the glass entirely, and Jerry's heart dropped into his boots when he realized that Wesley wasn't going to get a second swing.

 _'Oh, you poor son of a bitch.'_

There was the sound of heavy mag fire on the other side of the door, implying a MEC was inside. Jerry had seen what a MEC heavy mag did to human tissue plenty of times, but it never really got less sickening. Wesley's head, for lack of a better term for it, _vanished_ in a mist of red, with a few bits here or there scattering behind him and fanning out against the metal flooring on the yard. The body barely responded to this sudden development before more shots came flying in, ripping into the now-headless Van Pey's torso and sending it flailing back like a broken marionette.

A medic Jerry might be, but a miracle worker he was not.

" **Move!** " bellowed Phil from further down the line behind Jerry. Out of the corner of his eye, the medic saw Phil's shield extend down his arm as he charged towards the door. "Behind me, quickly!"

Jerry took that as a very, _very_ bad idea. "There's a MEC in there!" he shouted, trying to get the French goliath's attention again.

"That is why we have Magneto. Pyrrha, vite! The MEC first!"

"Alright!" came the reply from Jerry's back, and Pyrrha was off like a crimson-and-bronze bullet behind Phil.

"Blow the fuckin' wall open, Jack! We'll flank whatever's in there!" Murphy shouted, and the Samoan grunted in the affirmative. The puff of the grenade launcher followed quickly, as did another explosion. "Jerry, Ren, Jaune, Roddy, go!"

"What could possibly go wrong, he asked? What could _possibly_ go wrong!?" Roderick's ranting was punctuated with gunshots as he passed by the window that Van Pey had attempted to fire from. "Fuck you, Jack! Fuck you!"

"How the fuck was I supposed to know!?" Jack protested as he moved to assist Murphy. "I'll put down some cover fire!"

"Make it fuckin' quick-like then!" Murphy replied.

Jerry hustled his way over to the smoking, just-over-man sized hole in the facility's wall just as Roderick dropped to his knees and slid to the other side of it, firing his rifle all the way. Leave it to him to handle a firefight as if he were in an action movie. Jerry came to a stop on the side of the hole closest to him, and turned back to Jaune and Ren, sticking an arm out. "Hold up a sec. Jaune, need you to go in first with your shield up. I've got you covered, don't worry."

"O-okay!" Jaune replied, obviously not handling the current situation as well as one would hope. Then again, what would Jerry expect? The kid couldn't beat motion sickness, how was he supposed to handle someone getting eviscerated by a robot-sized railgun?

"Alright… Mercy, engage Overwatch protocol!"

The Gremlin following him whirred in the affirmative, and hovered the short distance over to Jaune and began to erratically circle around him, projecting a field of light a foot or so in every direction.

"This should mess with their targeting systems until we can pick 'em off, now get in there!" Jerry slapped the blonde boy on the back, trying his best to appear the picture of confidence in this extremely stressful situation.

* * *

Ren was not exactly sure how XCOM had planned this operation, but it was very obvious that Wesley Van Pey catching a hail of bullets was not part of it. Everyone was wired now, with Jerry in particular looking like he was teetering on the edge of cutting and running for it, his attempt at a reassuring smile for Jaune coming out as more of a pained grimace.

The medic was right about one thing, though. Jaune would be covered.

Team JNPR's not so fearless leader went into the breach, shield up, and Ren followed immediately behind, to audible protests from Roderick and Jerry. Neither of their inputs particularly mattered on the task at hand, so he paid them no mind. Instead, he stretched an arm out to touch his leader's shoulder, bracing against the cool, slightly damp polymer covering his shoulders. With a surge of Aura, Ren attempted to ease his leader's mind as the hail of fire began.

"Stay calm, Jaune. I'm right here to help," Ren assured him. He'd not gone to any great lengths to demonstrate his Semblance to his fellows in Team JNPR yet, but no time like the present, he supposed.

Jaune didn't respond verbally, but his defenses visibly tightened, and he shifted his shield just enough that Ren was completely out of the line of fire. Considerate, but unnecessary.

The MEC firing on them bent forward, obviously intent on firing grenades at them, only to visibly buckle and continue lurching down far beyond the point of reason. Then, it began to crumple into a semi-fetal position. Pyrrha's Semblance may not be subtle, but it most certainly delivered on expectations.

Two more ADVENT stood on either side of the crumpling MEC, behind a metal barrier overlooking a sort of green pool, with large racks of tubes and containers similar to the one Jerry had hid behind on the train stretching from floor to ceiling. Miló's rapid report put a quick end to one of the ADVENT, sending it flying backwards with a hole in its helm, while the other ducked behind the metal barrier with a loud cry.

"Let's go!" Jaune shouted, and pushed forward. Ren followed, moving to the right to take potshots at the ADVENT trooper should he rise from his cover. He could hear feet behind him, indicating that Jerry and Roderick were following suit.

A quick turn of the head showed that Pyrrha, Phil, Murphy and Jack had made extraordinarily quick work of the Sectoid and ADVENT troopers that were on their side of the facility, meaning that the situation was finally under control.

"One more!" he called out to the other side of the room as he pointed one of his pistols at the barrier.

"About to be no more!" Roderick shouted, breaking from Jerry and rushing out ahead of Ren. The soldier took a flying leap onto the barricade, landing with his foot on the small gap between barrier and floor as he hoisted his rifle, and opened fire. A scream, and the last enemy was vanquished. "Got him!"

"Alright, regroup on me!" Murphy ordered. "Commander, you seein' this shit?"

" _Yeah. Yeah, Murphy, I'm seeing it."_

Ren turned his attention to 'it'- the rows upon rows of containers, each containing a single human body, that were now rapidly filling with some kind of liquid, and lowering themselves into the floor.

"Brother Gods, what is this place?" Pyrrha asked, her voice barely audible over the din of the machinery around them. Ren had never seen the champion so rattled before.

"A fucking farm. I told you motherfuckers, I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THEY DIDN'T STOP THE FUCKING ABDUCTIONS!" Jack shouted, wading through the now knee-deep liquid towards the other side of the room. "They called me crazy! Those dumb motherfuckers laughed at me and called me fucking crazy…"

"Get it together, Shaw," Murphy commanded, before resuming his sweep of the room, "we're on the clock here! Commander, you notice anything of interest? Place is awfully barren."

 _"Copy, Shen's got some kind of chemical compound just ahead of you."_

"That's what that thing in the room right there is?" Jerry asked, concerned. "What kind of chemical?"

" _Can't get a scan. Shen says it's not anything toxic or radioactive, at least not in suspension."_

"Alright then, we'll grab it. We've got a KIA, ma'am. Van Pey."

 _"Fuck… grab the chemical and get the hell out of dodge, I'm scrambling Firebrand. We'll blow this place later."_

"Ma'am, I-"

 _"LATER, Captain MacAuley, right now I want you the fuck out of that AO!"_

"Right, right. Jack?"

"I got it, I got it," Jack assured him, striding with purpose towards the room where the chemical was stored. Ren couldn't see into it from this angle, but the glowing green and yellow lights certainly weren't the best sign.

Now that he had a moment to breathe, Ren looked around the interior of the facility. It was barren, lifeless, altogether a grisly locale. Jack's assessment wasn't quite generous enough- it reminded Ren more of a slaughterhouse than a farm. For once, his Semblance's side-effect of letting him sense the emotions of those nearby was doing more harm than good; Jaune was scared out of his wits, Pyrrha was sickened to the point of physical illness, and Jerry seemed to be teetering on the edge of… something. Come to think of it, he had seemed that way since they met, so there was nothing new there. Really, it seemed that only Nora and Roderick were relatively at peace with what was going on, which surprised him, somewhat, and Roderick was simply steeling himself.

Jack exited the room, container now clipped to his hip as he motioned over to Murphy. "Alright, let's get the fuck out of here!"

* * *

 _Meanwhile, on Remnant_

Qrow normally wasn't an early riser, but it appeared that today he'd have to just deal with the head rush of waking up at 4:00 BN, because the portal had opened up again. Same place as before, too.

Ozpin had Qrow tap into the kids' camera feeds and keep an eye on things, and up until now nothing had really caught his attention. He'd been trying to actually get some sleep when one of the motion alarms on the cams knocked him right out of his snooze. The snake-man thing had come in, and then left just as quickly, evidently a bit apprehensive about going back to the place where it got its ass beat prior. This time, though, the portal hadn't closed behind it, which could only mean that whatever was on the other side of it had it so scared that it needed a guaranteed exit.

Well, one snake-man-centaur-thing's exit is another man's entrance, so off Qrow went.

It wasn't a long flight to the Emerald Forest, and within 5 minutes he was within sight of the portal. No idea what was on the other side of it- all there was in the center of the rift was blackness. Team JNPR had taken a big leap of faith to get there, and it looked like Qrow would have to do the same.

He didn't have any attachment to any of the kids in particular, but he still hoped they were alive somehow.

Taking out his Scroll, he made a call to Glynda. She'd been put on night watch to help him out.

 _"What is it?"_ she asked.

"The portal's open. Get here as fast as you can, and find a way to keep it that way. I'm going in."

 _"Very well. I'll meet you there, then we'll discuss how we want to approach this."_

"Glynda, I'm just gonna repeat myself right quick. I'm going in. As in, _now_."

 _"... Qrow, I believe that's one of the worst ideas you've ever had."_

"This one's more stable. I saw the thing on camera- it came out of the portal, then went back in, and it stayed open. Last time it closed whenever it entered or exited it. Something's different about this."

 _"Are you going to stake your life on that?"_

"I'm pretty confident I can take on a snake-man."

 _"Very well, then. If you won't be convinced, then I'll get over there as fast as I can and see what to do to keep it open. If it closes, you're just going to have to find your own way home."_

"Hey, risks come with the territory. I'll be back with the kids, one way or the other."

With that, Qrow looked back at the portal, and rested Harbinger across his shoulders. This was going to be by far one of the stupidest, most insane things he'd ever done, stepping into an interdimensional portal to rescue four missing Beacon students from Brother-Gods-Know-What— if they were even still alive.

This called for a drink.

With a swig from his flask, Qrow walked into the portal, and the Emerald Forest flew away in a cascade of purple and black.

The first thing that struck him about this new environment was the wind, and he meant that in the most literal sense of the word 'struck'. The wind sent his cape whipping nearly blew his flask right out of his hand before he could brace himself. Quickly adjusting, he found himself looking at what appeared to be some sort of alpine building complex. The architecture was bleak and futuristic, a lot like what he'd seen of the military bases in Atlas. However, whereas Atlas preferred a more 'regal' and 'heroic' color palette of blues and whites, this facility leaned heavily on the black and red. He highly doubted anything good came out of this place.

A quick scan of his surroundings revealed that something was flying in, some sort of airship that had the same color scheme as the building itself. Some men were hanging onto the railings inside, their only defense against the whipping winds, as they approached the sight with their weapons ready. On the roof of the facility, a mere blur in his peripheral vision, something or someone was standing on the roof of the building.

And then they were gone, a blur of black jumping into the facility itself.

* * *

 _ **THWUMP**_.

Something hit the floor. _Hard_.

Phil wasn't the kind of man to dismiss a bad omen, and this mission had been full of them from the word go. Now, they were down a man, it was likely that all of ADVENT on the entire East Coast knew where they were, and now something was in the building with them.

"We need to leave," he stated, hefting up his cannon and looking around the room. He couldn't see anything amiss, but he'd found quite early on in his time in the Resistance that it was what you didn't see that killed you.

"No shit," Roderick agreed. "Back out the way we came?"

"Yeah, let's hoof it out of here," Murphy replied, starting off towards the door, only to stop at the sound of something splashing into the pool of liquid in the center of the room. "The hell was that?"

Phil's attention had snapped immediately to the splash the moment he heard it. Some kind of canister had been thrown from a corner of the room, and was now leaking some kind of…

"Smoke grenade!" Phil shouted. "Out, quickly!"

 **"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave this place**. **"** came a thundering voice over the comm lines.

"It's that Chosen again," Pyrrha noted, shifting her sword into rifle form and taking aim as the smoke began to fill the room. Murphy started off, running straight into the now closed door.

"Locked!" he shouted. "Fuck me dead!"

This grenade had a quite impressive amount of smoke in it, far more than the XCOM issue bomblets. The saturation was reaching a point where Phil could barely see around him, and it seemed that it was enough to completely blind everyone in the room.

"Where is she!?" Jerry asked, desperation evident in his voice.

"Shut up and keep your ears open! We'll get the bitch." Murphy ordered.

Phil continued looking through the smoke, trying to at least get a visual bead on one of his squadmates. He saw what appeared to be the silhouette of someone a few feet to his right. Taking a few steps in that direction, Phil stopped and freed up his shield arm the moment he heard something land in the water. With a flick of the switch and a press of a button, the shield began clanking into place as he shifted in the direction of the sound, and raised his arm. If he misjudged the direction, he was a dead man.

Luckily, he heard correctly. There was a sharp impact, and the sound of the Chosen stumbling back from the impact force. Phil lowered his shield just enough to catch a glimpse of it— her? — as it ran back into the smoke.

"It just tried to hit me! Front of the room!" Phil called out.

"Where the fuck's the front of the room!?" Jack shouted back. "Can't see shi- FUCK!"

"Jack!?"

"Get back here you little shit!"

Jack's cannon roared, as did the man himself, as Phil threw up his shield to stop a hail of bullets suddenly flying in his direction.

"Sacre, Jack, friendly fire!"

There was a scream of sheer, unadulterated pain from Phil's right. A human scream. _Jerry_ was screaming.

"Jerry!?" Roderick called out.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" the medic cried. Not only was Jerry screaming, he was actually swearing for the first time in Phil's memory. He wasn't sure if that was supposed to disturb him more than the fact that he was wounded, but somehow, it did. Jack stopped firing, and the sound of footsteps was audible, this time on metal floors before diving back into the water again. Phil threw his shield up once more, a bit too early, and the Chosen wove around his guard. It was wearing some kind of mask, likely what allowed it to see through the smoke. The hulking grenadier twisted as fast as he could in an attempt to bash the assailant with his massive shield, but it was too fast. The Chosen dove out of the way of the swing, rolling to a stop just a few feet away from Phil, and sprung after him, blade raised to stab at his side—

— only for Pyrrha's shield to smash it directly in the facemask, sending it tumbling back towards Jerry as the shield immediately rebounded back to its wielder. With a hiss of pain and thinly- veiled rage, the Chosen dove back into the smoke. Phil took the opportunity to move towards Jerry. The medic was still audibly in agony, barely suppressing his earlier anguished cries in favor of pained groaning. As Phil pushed his way through the slowly-dissipating smoke, he nearly bumped into the medic, who had dropped his gun in favor of grabbing his left hand. Blood was gushing from the mangled wreckage of what used to be said appendage, now reduced to about half of his ring finger and his pinky, and the very end of his thumb. The rest was practically ripped clean off.

"Calm down, mon ami, your gun. Where is your gun?" Phil lowered his voice, trying his best to keep calm, since nobody else seemed able to.

"Guys, where did it go?" Jaune asked, illustrating Phil's concerns perfectly by sounding as if he were about to piss himself. "Where did it go!?"

"Jerry!" Phil repeated. "Your gun!"

"I dropped it, sh-shit, I dropped it," Jerry said, voice trembling. His eyes didn't leave his hand for a second. "Fuck, that's my gun hand, that's my fucking gun hand—"

Phil immediately began looking for the short carbine, finding the stock just barely visible in the shin-deep water. "Take it, or you're a dead man," he ordered, shoving it into the medic's good hand. "We need to get out of here. Murphy!"

"I fuckin' agree! Anyone got eyes on the Chosen?"

"I can detect the metal on its body using my Semblance," Pyrrha said. "It's still in the building, in the room where Jack retrieved the chemical."

 **"So, there is more to you than just the average humans, I see…"** The Chosen's voice was like a death rattle over the comms. Phil wasn't a man who scared easy, or at least he liked to think of himself that way, but he would be the first to admit that he was shaken by this encounter. **"Tell me, why are you here, attaching yourself to a dead cause? You are not of this world, why do you feel the need to fight for it?"**

"Because they can't pay me rent money, now where the fuck are you!?" Roderick demanded. "You got a sword, I got a sword, let's fucking fight!"

The Chosen laughed.

 **"If a fight is what you desire, I ask that you contemplate your current situation before you attempt to strike at me. One of your men is crippled, another is wounded, and one lies dead where you left him. Do you really think you and your new friends can kill a child of the Elders?"**

"I killed you already," Pyrrha stated cooly, turning her head to look at Phil through the faded smoke, "and I'll do it again."

Phil watched as one of his grenades proceeded to fly off of his belt, the pin sticking to his belt as Pyrrha swung her hand, and threw it into the room where the Chosen was supposedly residing. Indeed, seconds after it hit the ground, the Chosen took a flying leap out of the room, the detonation following immediately afterward and throwing off its trajectory enough to send it tumbling over the floor and back into the water.

Roderick was on the move instantly, drawing his heavy blade off his back and jumping into the water with the Chosen. Jack's cannon audibly revved on the other side of the room, while more metallic footsteps indicated that someone else was about to join in on the melee. Roderick swung his blade overhead with both hands, batting the Chosen's sword out of the way with ease as the soldier reared up for another swing. He took too long, however, and the alien was able to raise its guard again, this time parrying his swing with a strike of her own, knocking his swing off-target before bashing him in the face with the hilt of her sword with a loud crack. Roderick grunted, his hand instinctively jumping to grab at the injury, and the Chosen prepared to strike again, only for Ren to, for lack of a better word, _fly_ at her foot-first. His kick barely went off the mark, the young man landing with perfect balance and switching feet to pivot and deliver a roundhouse kick that the Chosen barely managed to block with her forearm. A green energy crackled around Ren as he raised one of his pistols, and fired a shot that struck the facemask of the Chosen dead-on, sending pieces of it across the room and leaving the Chosen howling in pain and rage.

"Jack, run!" Murphy ordered. "Get the chemical out of here and get to extract! Kids, you too!"

"I'm hurt, Cap," Jack replied. Phil was just now noticing that his armor had been breached. A long gash ran down from just around the collar down to his hip, and there was blood visibly seeping into the underlayer beneath the armor. "I'm not goin' anywhere fast."

"L-let me take it!" Jerry stumbled towards the two, holding out his mangled hand as if he could actually hold the thing. Phil stuck out his arm and pushed the man back before he could go any farther.

"Shit, you need to go too. Phil!" Murphy grabbed the vial off of Jack's waist, and tossed it at the Frenchman, who threw his hand to grab it out of the air, taking great pains not to break it.

"We're going to help you fight this thing off, then we'll see about leaving," Pyrrha said, her face resolute as she fired off a shot with her rifle at the Chosen, striking it in the shoulder as it attempted to rise and retaliate against Ren.

"Yeah! If we stick together, we can take it!" Jaune agreed.

 _"Thank fuck, I got comms back. Murphy, you've got ADVENT reinforcements on your position right now! Forget the Chosen, forget the Blacksite, get the hell out of there!"_ Grace's voice sounded frantic, panicked even. The last thing that XCOM needed right now was a panicking CO.

"Not up for discussion, dammit, get a bloody move on and RUN!" Murphy demanded. "Now!"

"Do you think you will escape?" The Chosen asked, its voice no longer audible on the comms. "I am far faster than any of you. I will run you down and end your pathetic lives!" It emphasized its point by righting itself once more and taking a wild swing at Ren, as Roderick went in for another of his own. The alien pulled the sheath off of its back, the metal scabbard shifting into some kind of firearm as it used it to block his sword strike, while it intercepted Ren's attempt at an overhead slice with the blade attached to his pistols with its sword.

"Try running with broken legs!" Roderick shouted, emphasizing his point by throwing out a sudden, vicious kick to the alien's shin. A quick hop meant the Chosen was never in any real danger, but it had shifted its grip on the sheath/weapon enough for Roderick to make another swing, this time burying his blade in the remainder of its faceplate. "Ren, move it! I got this!"

Ren disengaged, taking shots at the Chosen as he ran back towards Jaune. The alien attempted to pull away, the bullets seemingly doing precious little damage to it, which was odd considering one of those same shots had practically erased an ADVENT trooper's head from existence. Roderick tugged his blade out of the Chosen's faceplate, readying for another swing as the alien reared back, readying both gun and blade. Jack's cannon erupted with a volley of bullets, crashing into the water around both Roderick and the Chosen and forcing the latter to run for cover. Why was it taking cover when their bullets were barely hurting it, and it took multiple blows from heavy weapons to even get it to flinch?

"GO!" Murphy repeated emphatically, readying his own cannon. "We'll kill this thing and hold out for extract!"

"The extraction point is outside!" Jerry protested. "You're gonna get boxed in if you stay here!"

"I said GO!" Murphy repeated a final time. He wasn't going to budge. It was a shame, Phil quite liked the Captain. He wasn't Remi, but he was a fine man. Hell, he was a better man than Remi, for sure.

The Chosen rose to its feet as Roderick readied his sword again, the injured area around his eye already starting to deform and swell as he prepared another swing. Steel clashed against alien steel, and Roderick's sword was thrown into the water. Undeterred, the man immediately rushed forward and threw a haymaker that caught the alien in the jaw, before grabbing it by the neck and trying to wrestle it into Jack's line of fire. It attempted to ready its gun, but Roderick was one step ahead, smashing his arm into the alien's forearm and pinning it against his body. "Jack, take a shot at it!" he demanded, trying to maintain his grip as the Chosen struggled.

Time to leave.

"Affirmative, Captain. We'll wait for you at the extraction point," Phil agreed, before turning back to the two members of Team JNPR that were behind him. "Let's go!"

While Ren immediately started towards the whole in the wall, Jaune seemed hesitant. He was scared, that much was easy to tell just from looking at him, and yet it still seemed like he was debating staying and fighting. Admirable, but Phil had his orders.

"Jaune, you need to go! Move, vite!" With a shove, Phil hurried Jaune along and ran out of the facility with the blonde in tow, leaving Roderick, Murphy, and Jack to face the Chosen and whatever came after it.

* * *

Qrow had quickened his pace considerably when he heard the gunfire, but he had no idea if Team JNPR was involved until he heard their voices coming from the building. Jumping into a hostile situation with no prior explanation and no way to prove he was on the level was a bad idea, so he'd elected to try and find a way to get a sneaky potshot in or a means of separating JNPR from their newfound companions.

It seemed the issue was resolving itself, though. The kids were running out towards him with two of their 'friends' in front of them. One of them had one arm hanging limp at his side, while the other was tilted slightly off-balance by the massive shield on his arm.

"Commander!" The shield-wearer called out. "Where the fuck is the portal? No, I don't have a grid square handy!"

"Hey!" Qrow called out. "It's over this way!"

The man's gaze snapped to Qrow, and although he couldn't see anything other than his eyes, the way that they narrowed at him made it clear that this man did not trust Qrow's intentions.

"Wait a sec," the injured man moved closer to his companion. Qrow could now clearly see that his right hand was mangled and bleeding profusely. "Who are you?"

"Qrow Branwen. Headmaster Ozpin sent me to pick up those kids."

Jaune peered up from behind the shield wielder, shock in every inch of his features. "Wait, Ozpin? You mean we have a way home?" Jaune's reaction caused the shield-wielder to ease up significantly.

"Not if you don't hurry up," Qrow replied, turning to address the shield-wielder. "I'll bring 'em to the portal, you guys do what you have to do."

"Wait," Nora started, raising her hammer. "They're in trouble back there! If you're a Huntsman, you can help out, right?"

"Don't worry, Nora, we've got it," the injured man assured her, although the look on his face told an entirely different story. "Go on home."

"But what about that Chosen thing?"

"We beat it once. We can beat it again," the shield wielder assured her. "Go, sil te plait. We need to get back to the-"

Qrow watched a pillar of violet light descend from the sky, piercing the roof of the building that the men and team JNPR had come from. The shift in his eyes drew the injured man's attention, and he turned to get a look for himself.

"That's not good."

"Well, Mr. Qrow, I do hope you're telling us the truth." the shield-wielder stated, closing the distance between him and Qrow. "Because I will find a way through that portal one day." _If this is an attempt at intimidation, it's not exactly doing the job. Good effort, though._

"You sound like one of Jimmy's grunts. But are you sure you're not gonna need help with whatever that is?" Qrow pointed at the violet beam, which pulsed brightly as if to punctuate his question."

"We are beyond help," he replied, stone-faced and solemn.

Qrow have a grim nod, all too familiar with the look in the large soldier's eyes. "Thanks for gettin' the kids this far. Hope you're not about to do anything too stupid."

"Stupid's our MO," the wounded man said, giving a weak attempt at a smile as a small robot flew up behind him, spraying some kind of blue foam at his hand. "Good luck."

With nothing else to say, the shambling remains of Home Run gave a small nod and began moving back towards the building. Noticing the kids watching the armored forms as they slowly made their way back inside, Qrow snapped his fingers to get their attention. Once he got them looking his way, Qrow jerked his head back the way he'd come. "Home's that way, but we gotta move."

Pyrrha stared at him "You expect us to just… leave them?"

"No. I expect you to fight me every step of the way as I carry your unconscious body back. I know that look in your eyes, seen one too many friends throw themselves into a meat grinder not to. But there's a reason Oz sent me and not Bart: I _will_ drag you back if you make me."

Nora swayed on her feet, but kept a look of defiance as she did. She opened her mouth, obviously eager to put her two cents on the pile, but before she could speak, she was interrupted by Ren. "He's right. We can't stay here. Not like this."

"Ren, you can't ser-" Pyrrha started, balling up her fists and taking a step towards her teammate.

"No. he's right. I want to help them too, but we can't do that right now. We've wasted enough time arguing, we need… we need to go home." Jaune interrupted. "Qrow, lead the way."

As Qrow moved back towards the portal, he could practically see the negativity rolling of the kids who, even in the heavy-looking armor, almost looked like they were taking a jog to keep up with him. There had to be one hell of a story behind all this, but that would be better told— and heard— over a hard drink, or at the very least in Ozpin's office.

Reaching the entry site, the kids gave one more moment of hesitation as they looked behind them when the purple light snuffed out. Unfortunately the wistful staring would have to wait as the portal started flickering at the edges.

"Reminisce later, Glynda can't hold the thing open forever!" he ordered, pointing Harbinger at the exit in question.

Almost like a funeral procession, the four walked into the portal, with Qrow close behind just as it began to shrink.

Emerging back into the familiar smell of the Emerald Forest, Qrow and Team JNPR were now back on Remnant terra firma, and Qrow had to say the feeling was pretty liberating. Better the devil you know. Turning to the straining Goodwitch, he gave her a thumbs up. "All good, shut it down."

Glynda finally released the spell she'd cast over the portal, and it collapsed into the aether. She let out a sigh of exasperation as she turned to look at Qrow, then at the children. From behind him, Qrow heard the all-too familiar sound of childish adulation. The voice could only have belonged to one person.

Qrow saw probably one of the strangest things in his life: four hulking suits of armor with kid's heads poking out of them, being swarmed by four other kids barely 2/3 their size. Team RWBY were disheveled and exhausted-looking, obviously having just woken up when the motion alarms by the portal went off. Affection and relief were clear across all the faces, but something seemed… off about the look of JNPR, in comparison. Whatever those kids had seen on the other side of that portal changed them, for better or for worse.

"What the beans are you wearing! It looks so cool, are there built-in weapons?" And then there was Ruby. As always, her first instinct at seeing some fancy new gear was asking 'is it also a gun?'

"Good to see you too, Ruby," Jaune replied, attempting a smile.

"Pyrrha! Are you alright? Are any of you injured? Do you need food, water, anything? I have plenty of funds to spare should you need-" Weiss began, rapidly going off at a machine-gun pace that made Qrow wonder if she really was Winter's sister. The former tournament champion just chuckled and waved her off.

As the kids caught up with one another, Qrow took out his Scroll and shot Ozpin an update. ' _Kids are home safe. There's human life on the other side of that portal, non-hostile. Might wanna see about opening it up again some other time.'_

The reply was prompt. _'We shall see. I want to speak with Team JNPR once they get some rest, and Mr. Frost as well. He'd like to know that we found a way for him to get home, I'm sure.'_

Qrow pocketed his Scroll once more, and turned to look at Goodwitch again. "So, Glynda…"

"Are any of them injured?"

"Not that I could see. That armor covers up a bit. Never seen anything like it before. They had some humans on the other side with the same stuff. I couldn't get a read on either of them, but they didn't seem to have Aura- one of the poor guys had his hand torn to shreds. They'd been protecting the kids."

"Non-hostile human life? Were you on a different portion of Remnant, perhaps?" Glynda folded her arms, obviously trying to find a rational explanation for this irrational situation.

"No. Wherever they were, it wasn't Remnant. There's some strange shit on the other end of these portals, and it ain't just snakes." Qrow grabbed his flask off his hip, and took a quick swig. "Oz is gonna want to hear all about this."


	24. Chapter 24

Happy as Team JNPR was to be back home, the shift in scenery had certainly been jarring. They'd returned early in the morning and Team RWBY offered to bring them back to the dorms, give them all the class materials they needed to catch up, send them by Ozpin's office to speak to the Headmaster about their little dalliance, and then leave them to rest. The problem was that none of JPR (Nora was getting looked at in the infirmary) were particularly tired - if anything, they were more energetic than usual. Ren was wound up like a coiled Taijitu for every single second that Nora was out of his line of sight, and Pyrrha carried herself as if some great, invisible weight had suddenly found a home on her shoulders.

That feeling wasn't at all assuaged when they learned that their absence was very, very short.

"Three days." Pyrrha repeated, sitting on the edge of her bed and looking at Ruby with unabashed disbelief. "We were only gone for… three days."

"Yup!" Ruby replied. She wasn't doing any better than JNPR it seemed. Though her voice was as chipper as ever, her eyes were obviously struggling to stay open, with noticeable rings of darkness making it clear that she'd slept little over these past three days. "Three whole days! We were starting to get worried that you wouldn't come back."

"We were on Earth for about three weeks or so," Ren said, "but I highly doubt Ruby would forget the passage of time. We walked through a portal to another world, something rather hard to fathom in and of itself. I suppose saying that time works differently there is no more a stretch of the imagination."

JPR sat in their dorm, finally relaxing in their own beds in their own school for what felt like the first time in ages. Their armored suits had been hung up in the team's communal closet (Pyrrha stated very clearly that she didn't want to see them, so they shoved them to the far back), and they'd managed to properly clean themselves up. The scar on the back of Pyrrha's hand drew some odd looks from Team RWBY, but so far not one of them had commented on it.

"Anyway," Weiss stated, motioning to a small file folder she was carrying, "I took the liberty of making extra copies of our notes from the previous class. You only missed a single day of study work, but there was a dissertation due in Advanced Dust Mechanics, Ren, so I had someone finish it for you -"

" -Thank you, but I'm perfectly capable of writing a paper myself," Ren said.

Weiss was taken aback for all of one second before letting out an indignant huff and turning her head. "Well, I paid for this, so I would appreciate you using it."

"That's cheating."

"It's not cheating, you were completely incapable of writing the assignment yourself!"

"Guys, guys, guys," Yang interrupted, putting up her hands. "Boring stuff later, what matters now is - where the heck were you?" Yang's hands remained hoisted high as she slowly pointed at JNPR to emphasize her question. "You're gone for three days and come back like you've seen Some Shit. Like, with two capital S's 'Some Shit'."

"Well, we were…" Pyrrha started, awkwardly staring off at the wall and giving one of her least convincing smiles to date. "I… believe we were on another planet."

"Yeah. 'Earth'." Jaune continued. "We ended up stuck with some guys called 'XCOM' who helped us stay alive until we could get home. They're humans like us, just without any kind of Aura or stuff like that. There weren't many Grimm, either— we only saw one in our whole time there, and they didn't even know what it was."

"Earth?" Ruby repeated. "We know an… Earth person!"

"You do?" Pyrrha asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Blake spoke up, "when we were searching for you, I encountered a man claiming to be from Earth. His name is Eric Frost. He came in through a portal like the ones you came out of. He's in the infirmary, I think… I'm not sure. We injured him when he attempted to fight us."

"I broke his arm," Ruby's gaze lowered to the floor.

"He'll probably want to know that there's a way for him to get home," Blake continued. "You should probably talk to Ozpin about that, whenever you go to see him."

"Of course," Pyrrha agreed.

"I'm going to go and check on Nora again," Ren said, standing up from his place at the foot of his bed. "I suppose I'll meet you at the Headmaster's office?"

"Sounds good," Jaune said. "We'll head that way in a little bit, I guess."

With that, Ren hurried off. He'd been itching to be back at Nora's side, but he'd been entrusted with bringing her things to their dormitory. Now it was just Jaune, Pyrrha, and Team RWBY, who seemed about ready to follow after Ren.

"I imagine you two need some rest," Weiss said. "You've been through quite an ordeal, it sounds like."

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "We're glad to have you back. See you at lunch?"

Jaune nodded, with a thin smile that didn't quite feel natural. "Sure thing. We'll see you then."

Team RWBY left, and now Jaune and Pyrrha were alone with their thoughts. Jaune wasn't particularly fond of said thoughts. A part of him wanted to rationalize everything he went through as some kind of waking nightmare, and that he'd wake up any minute now to the smell of Ren making pancakes and the sound of Nora back to her old antics. Even seeing Team RWBY again, being back in his own bed, being back at Beacon… none of that even began to settle his frayed nerves.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked. Her voice was quiet, lacking her usual confidence. It unsettled Jaune to hear his partner so troubled.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that Jerry and Phil are still alive?"

That was a question Jaune didn't want to answer, mainly because he knew he wouldn't like the conclusion his mind would come to about it. The last time they had seen any of Home Run, Phil was one of two men without an injury, Jerry was missing almost the entirety of his hand, and Murphy, Jack, and Roderick were likely sacrificing their lives to ensure that both Team JNPR and whatever was in that vial made it out.

 _'We could have stayed and helped them. We had our Auras, we could have taken a few guys with guns, and with that Huntsman that showed up we'd definitely have been able to…'_

No use dwelling on things that you couldn't' fix, Jaune figured. "I think they're fine," he lied.

"I hope so. After all Jerry especially went through to help us… to know that he died because we left them behind… I'm not sure how I'd take that." Pyrrha's eyes were trained on the closet, and Jaune was once again taken aback at the naked vulnerability in his normally steadfast teammate. "Strange. I thought I'd prepared myself to come to terms with such things. After all, death is just part of the life we've chosen, isn't it? Being a Huntsman or Huntress is just as dangerous as being a soldier. Still…"

"Yeah," Jaune agreed. "It feels…"

He wasn't exactly sure what to say. He couldn't really describe the pit that formed in his stomach when he thought about what happened to Van Pey, or Jerry, or Wade.

"It feels almost surreal," Pyrrha finished for him. "We were on a whole other world, and yet here we are back at home, and nothing has changed."

Jaune simply nodded in reply. Pyrrha was wrong, something had changed… for better or for worse.

* * *

"Do you drink tea by any chance, Mr. Frost?" Ozpin asked, not looking away from the door for a second.

"More of a coffee guy," Eric replied. .

"Shame. You'd get along with Doctor Oobleck."

Oobleck. What a name. _'Didn't I read a book when I was a kid about something called an Oobleck or something?'_

Team JNPR was apparently en-route to the office, and Ozpin had insisted that Eric be here to meet them. He wasn't exactly sure why his presence was required, but around here, it seemed Ozpin was the end all, be all. The massive amount of empty space only served to unsettle Eric further- he felt small...isolated. Even with the guy who'd basically given him a free ride and a blank check, Eric felt more alone and confused than he'd felt since he got out of the Sandbox.

"So, these are the missing students, right?" Eric asked– not out of confusion, he knew damn well who Team JNPR were by now. Mostly it was just to keep some noise in the room. It was too quiet.

"That's correct. Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos, and Lie Ren. They are the students who have, to my understanding, gone to Earth and come back again. Your world is confirmed to be within our reach."

"So, what you're telling me is you can make another portal for me to go home with?" Eric asked.

"Not yet. I have an associate working on it, I can assure you of that much. This is a matter of our Kingdom's security, and I'm sure that our neighbors don't want some unknown hostile force entering their borders as well. He'll have something soon."

"Hope so," Eric said, his foot tapping impatiently.

Thankfully, before the ticking of the clock over Ozpin's desk could drive him into head-ventilating insanity, there was the staccato sound of Glynda's tapping footsteps from down the hall with others shortly behind. At least two, maybe more. Eric found it hard to tell with the door in the way. His eyes cut to said door, then to the window, and he found his hand idly drifting to his sidearm.

"You're alright, Eric. If you need a moment-"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Eric replied, forcing his hands to meet in front of him. His nerves would have to play second fiddle to his brain this time.

 _'I'm safe. No one here is trying to hurt me.'_

The doors swung open to reveal Glynda, with four teenagers in tow. One of them, a straggly blonde who reminded Eric a bit of Powell— _wonder if Powell's still alive—_ looked immediately at Eric with clear and present apprehension. Eric attempted to smile at him, but judging by his reaction all Eric did was make him even more nervous.

"Team JNPR, I'm glad to see you are all in good health. I trust you were properly informed of the developments that occurred while you were away?"

"Team RWBY was kind enough to help us find our feet," one of the other members, a crimson-haired girl who looked from where Eric stood to be taller than him, replied. Her attention now turned to him as well. "Who is this?"

"You said you were informed, Miss Nikos. Eric, this is Team JNPR," Ozpin chided, motioning to the blonde, the redhead, a ginger girl with a bandaged right arm and an Asian-looking guy with weird-looking pink eyes. "Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren. Team JNPR, this is Eric Frost."

"Lieutenant Frost, Delta Force Green Element. Heard you four were just on Earth not too long ago," Eric stated, looking at Pyrrha. She seemed to have a leader's bearing - tall, straight-laced, and completely relaxed in spite of odd circumstances.

"That would be correct, Lieutenant," Pyrrha replied.

"Mr. Frost arrived on Remnant in the same fashion you four left it," Ozpin continued. "A portal in the Emerald Forest deposited Eric and and another Earth entity into the forest. Eric survived this, and encounters with the Grimm, for the past two years. He'd been surviving in the forest with limited contact with civilization and crude Dust weaponry until Team RWBY encountered him while searching for you. With your return, we're going to be looking for a way to send him home."

"Are you really sure you _want_ to go home, though?" Nora asked, seeming a bit off kilter. Her eyes were unfocused, like she was looking at something far off into the distance, or couldn't quite see. No sooner had Eric noticed this, however, her eyes immediately met his, clear and alert. "Killing aliens was kinda cool and all, but things seem pretty bad."

"Hold on- aliens?" Eric asked, incredulous. _'They're still there?'_

"Yep," Nora answered. "We ended up meeting a group of guys that helped us get home! There was a really angry guy with a funny accent, a crazy dude who kept calling us aliens, a guy with a really big sniper rifle who was really nice to Ren— actually the guy said he was from 'Delta Force' too— a really awesome dude named Jerry who lost his hand— man I hope he's okay, now that I'm thinking about it— and then there was Murphy and… oh." Whereas Nora had sounded kind of excited to recite her experiences before, the mention of 'Murphy' seemed to deflate her significantly. Eric, however, was more focused on an earlier part of that statement.

"What was the other Delta Force op's name?" he asked.

"I don't really remember," Nora replied. "I can't remember a lot of stuff that happened, actually. Ren says I got shocked by some kind of electrical system…"

"I believe his name was Lawrence Hamilton," Ren replied.

Eric's eyes widened until they felt like they'd pop out of his skull. Larry was out there. He was still alive, somehow, and if these JNPR guys were fighting aliens, and Larry had his gun…

He needed to get home _now_.

"Yeah, Headmaster, this lines up. I know Lawrence Hamilton," Eric said, turning to look at the man in question. "They got lucky."

"More proof that both sides are giving accurate information," Ozpin agreed. "That being said, it will be difficult for you to find a way home. We still don't understand exactly how those portals work, save for a bit of baseline information that Glynda picked up in the field from the portal Team JNPR passed through."

"The portal appeared to be manifested through some sort of Aura projection," Glynda explained, "but it felt.., unnatural. Like some sort of abomination had twisted it into a shadow of what a soul is supposed to be, and forced it to bend to their will. It caused me a good deal of pain just to keep it open long enough for Team JNPR to enter."

"So if somehow we get lucky and the portal shows up again," Eric replied, counting out the previous four appearances on his hand, "then I've got my ticket home. Say, you didn't happen to catch the name of the place you landed in, kids?"

"Arizona," Jaune replied.

Arizona was far from Fort Bragg, but he knew how to get there. The aliens weren't able to kill Larry, which boded well for Eric's own chances of trekking cross-country.

"I understand that Nora and Pyrrha were injured during your time on Earth. Nora checked into the infirmary, but you," Ozpin stated, looking at the latter of the two girls, "did not."

"I was given medical attention on Earth," she explained. "XCOM's medical specialist was very attentive."

"That may be true, but I believe that you should still speak to Nurse Lapis about your injuries. It's better to be safe than sorry."

"Of course," Pyrrha agreed, though the slight crack in her voice made it clear she wasn't 100 percent sold.

"Eric." Ozpin turned to look at the Delta, raising an eyebrow. "Did you have any further questions for Team JNPR?"

"No. I think I know all I need to know right now." Eric turned to the teens and gave them a nod. "Thanks, by the way."

"If that's the case, then you are dismissed," Ozpin said, turning his attention back to JNPR. "I have a private matter I wish to discuss with Mr. Frost. It's good to know that you are all back at Beacon, safe and sound. If you require anything, please let the Glynda or the other instructors know. We understand if there are… issues with adjustment."

A few hurried thank yous and JNPR was out of the door, and Eric felt nervous again. Glynda had gone along with them, and it was just the two of them alone on the floor. Blank slate or not, something about the man struck Eric as untrustworthy. Like he had ten thousand secrets and wouldn't dare share a single one of them.

"Private matter, huh?" Eric asked, carefully.

Ozpin sighed, leaning over his desk slightly and propping his elbows on the hardwood. "I have something I want to ask you regarding Earth. I do not know when we will be able to return you to your home, or even how we will go about it… but I want you to do something for me."

Eric felt that he owed the man at least a hearing, if not a promise. "I'll think about it, whatever it is."

"I believe it would be beneficial to both of us if you found a way to open a portal from the other side to here, and keep some form of communication. There are dark forces at play here on Remnant, and I may need assistance in combating them."

. Ozpin was asking him to go to a dead, likely alien-infested Earth and go drum up some support. Let it never be said that SOCOM had the corner on 'stupid ideas'.

"Oz, I'm gonna be honest with you, I don't think that's realistic. When I left Earth, aliens were beating the shit out of us. I don't think there's enough people left alive to save anything, let alone a whole 'nother planet from whatever the fuck you're talking about."

Ozpin shook his head. "I apologize. I did not know the gravity of the situation you were in. Regardless, I ask that you attempt to find a way back, so that we can make some sort of two-way communication."

Eric got a distinct feeling that Ozpin knew a lot more than he was letting on, and he didn't like it for a second. "All due respect, but I don't think that's gonna happen. I'm gonna be completely off the grid - I'm talking full survival mode. Even if I do manage to get a radio or something else like that, there's no way I can get in touch with you guys and, God knows, maybe some these portals actually lead somewhere other than Earth: somewhere worse."

"I can only _ask_ that you try, Mr. Frost. Whether you do or not is up to you."

Ozpin waved his hand, and turned his seat to look at Eric in the eye. "You're free to leave, if you so desire."

Eric didn't desireto leave just yet, as a matter of fact. There was a question that had been burning in his brain ever since earlier on in their conversation, when Oz had mentioned an associate. "You know, I've got a lot of questions for you, man. Most of them are 'what the fuck is going on here' or something similar, but there's a few more specific questions that I've got in mind. First, what the fuck are these 'dark forces' that you're talking about, and what makes you think that I can help beat them? I couldn't even take on one of your students in a fair fight. Second — and more pressingly — I wanna go home sooner rather than later and see why the hell my old CO is still alive and kicking, and if your 'associate' is supposed to be bringing me home, I want to know who the fuck he is, I wanna know his fucking prerogative, and I wanna know why the fuck you think he's gonna help me!"

"I will answer your questions to the best of my ability, but there are certain things that I can only reveal to you in the course of time," Ozpin stated, before beginning what Eric assumed would be a half-baked attempt at an explanation. "First of all, I knew you weren't lying about your experience. I know that Earth exists, because I've seen it."

 _'Well, shit, never mind, he's just telling me straight up.'_

"When?" Eric asked.

"A long time ago. I can't tell you any specifics of what happened when I arrived there, only that there were civilizations there that I learned a great deal from."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, _no_. Yes. Yes you can, bud," Eric insisted, taking the few steps needed to close the distance from where he stood to the desk. "You say you went there, and yet you have to go through an associate to get me home? What gives? How come you can't just open a fucking portal right now and let me out of this?"

"Because I haven't been anywhere near that level of strength for years, Mr. Frost. Even if I could, I have no desire to do so for my _own reasons,_ hence why I want to send you home to act in my stead." Ozpin's voice steadily rose in volume, never quite reaching a yell, but making it clear that Eric's line of questioning was not welcome. He was lying, and Eric knew it, but there was no point in keeping on and pissing off this… whoever and whatever the hell Ozpin was.

"Fine. If there's a way to realistically contact you from Earth," Eric said, "I'll make every effort to keep in touch. That being said, our tech's behind yours. No way anything on my world can reach you, not anything that isn't alien tech anyway."

"My associate is working on that, as well."

"Who the hell is your associate?"

Ozpin sighed once more, his brow furrowing with frustration at Eric's continued insistence on the truth. "I'm not at liberty to-"

"The fuck you aren't. What am I gonna do, Oz? Go and shout it in the streets? I don't know who anybody is here, and nobody knows me. The least you can do is clue me in on who's fucking sending me home."

After ten seconds of stifling, oppressive silence, Ozpin finally caved, sitting back up to full height in his chair. "If you are so insistent on knowing, would you like to speak to him yourself?"


	25. Chapter 25

"And with whom, exactly, am I speaking?" the figure on screen asked, looking at Eric with what he could only interpret as contempt. The guy carried himself like a General (which, to be quite fair, he apparently was) and had the same 'my shit doesn't stink' attitude to boot. Eric hated the brass back on Earth, and this guy seemed no better.

"Lieutenant Eric Frost, Delta Force, Green Element." Eric felt like he'd said that phrase a thousand times - it was more of a reflex than anything at this point. "The guy you're apparently supposed to be sending home."

Ironwood didn't scowl, but the twitch in his eye told Eric all he needed to know. "Is that so? When Ozpin told me that a soldier had been found in the Emerald Forest, I assumed he was speaking of someone more… Professional."

"Yeah, well, you haven't seen me work, smartass."

"Gentlemen," Ozpin interrupted, raising a hand from behind his desk, "there's plenty of time for posturing later. Right now, Lieutenant Frost simply wants answers. You said you wanted to speak to him, so here he is."

"Very well. What exactly do you want to know, Lieutenant?" General Ironwood straightened himself up to his full height, and looked down at Eric from the screen in front of him.

"First of all, who the fuck are you?" Eric asked.

"Well, you're certainly not one for decorum. I'm General James Ironwood of the Atlesian Armed Forces. I'm the Headmaster of Atlas Military Academy.. I'm surprised Ozpin didn't inform you before we spoke."

"Yeah, well, this guy sure likes his secrets." Eric cut his eyes at Ozpin, who seemed unaffected by the verbal jab, before returning his attention to Ironwood. "You're supposed to be sending me home. How do you plan on doing that?"

"The idea is that you came to Remnant through a portal," Ironwood began, "and that such portals are two way. Far-fetched as that may be, there are few other explanations for how you got here or for how Team JNPR returned safely. Ergo, we need to find a means of materializing these portals or stabilizing them once they appear."

"Right, and exactly how did Glynda keep it open before? Magic bullshit?" Eric looked to Ozpin for an answer, but the Headmaster shook his head.

"As powerful as Glynda's Semblance is, it was far too taxing on her aura to maintain the connection for more than a few minutes. While we want to get you home, Eric, we also wish to create a link between your world and ours to facilitate regular communication. Thus, a more permanent solution is needed."

"Remind me _why_ you want to communicate with a doomed planet full of aliens?" Eric asked, incredulous. No matter what reasons Ozpin gave, he didn't trust that they'd be honest.

"I'm interested in hearing this as well, Ozpin," General Ironwood agreed, moving his eyes to the headmaster. Ozpin seemed unflappable in the face of two military men questioning him, and rewarded their glares with the slightest of shrugs.

"You know the dangers we face, James."

"And I have every protocol in place to face them when they arise, and to ensure that there will be nothing left for us to be threatened by. Do you honestly believe me less competent than a… What was it, a 'doomed planet full of aliens'?"

"I am merely trying to cover every possible angle that I can."

"Tell me, Lieutenant Frost." Ironwood rapidly changed targets, his gaze locking on to Eric with such intensity that he felt bolted to the floor. "Exactly how much has Ozpin told you about the threat we're facing?"

"Jack shit."

"Well, Ozpin, if you're going to drag this man and his planet into our affairs, shouldn't you at least tell him what the dangers are?"

Both soldiers turned to Ozpin, who had rested his head in his hands before letting out a long, tired sigh.

"Very well. Eric, I must inform you that no matter how outlandish this seems, everything I'm about to tell you is true."

* * *

 _Earth_

 _The Avenger_

"They gonna be alright, boss?"

Declan's inquiry was about the only thing breaking the silence among the assembled soldiers. Counting Team JNPR, 10 men had gone in. Only 3 came home.

"Roderick will lose the eye," Phil replied, cutting off Adam before he could even start. "As for Jerry… Well, he's lucky that Jack only hit his hand."

Sophie's eyes were red and puffy in spite of the fact that Jerry would likely make a full recovery. The sitrep had been pretty unclear—all that she'd heard was that Jerry had been shot, and that had been enough to tip her into near-hysterics. Adam heard her make some sort of half-muffled noise behind him, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. They had two men unaccounted for.

"What happened to Murphy and Jack" Adam asked, crossing his arms as he met the big man's eye. Phil had escaped without injury (he credited both his shield and JNPR for that), but it was obvious the man had been rattled to his core.

"When we went back for Jack, Murphy was already gone. He said that the Chosen had grabbed him and teleported away. He told us to leave him behind after that, and we took Roddy with us when we did."

"Ya gotta be fookin' jokin'," Kyle muttered, running a hand through his hair while holding the photo that would eventually be Wesley's memorial in his hand. There hadn't been much fanfare over his passing. Other than Roderick, he didn't have many friends on the Avenger.

"So who's in charge of Hitman, then?" Wolf Mother asked, "And who's replacing my man?"

"I don't know if we have any reserves," Lawrence replied, holding his chin pensively. "Murph had said that Lex was his pick for SIC…"

"I'll take the job, but if Murphy's still out there, we're going to look for him. Right?" Alexios tapped his foot impatiently, looking to Adam for some sort of answer that the Welshman didn't provide. "Why would the Chosen just fuck off and not leave him for dead? She wants something."

"Us. That's what she wants," Sophie said. Her voice was flat, almost emotionless, but the look of dawning horror on her face said it all. "She wants to know where we are."

"Good fuckin' luck," Declan said proudly. "Nothin' can break Murph. Guy's tough as nails."

"Even so…" Jo muttered, taking a seat at the desk in the hangar's enclave, away from the rest of the group. "They'll kill him. Whether he cracks or nae, they'll kill him. We gotta find a way to get him out."

"I don't know if we can. We don't even know where she's hiding," Fyodor replied, sullen. "I fear that Murphy is gone. All we can hope is that we can make sure it is not for nothing."

"We finished the mission, at the very least," Remi spoke up as he examined his tablet. "Whatever's in that vial, Tygan will have a field day with it when he figures out how to properly analyze it. We may crack this Avatar Project yet."

"Oh, and this 'Skulljack' thing that Engineering is working on could maybe help," Emma agreed. "If we can breach ADVENT's neural network, then maybe we can find out where the Chosen is hiding, maybe it can show us where Murphy is being held?"

Adam didn't respond. In spite of all the stress, all the mental gymnastics he had to suffer through to keep himself grounded right now, he was still floored by the fact that Emma Leroy spoke English. Most everyone in the room seemed equally surprised. Emma looked confused, but soon caught on. Folding her arms, she frowned at the assembled operatives.

"Really? All this shit going on and all anyone cares about is that I speak 9 languages?"

"Wait, nine?" Phil started, suddenly as surprised as anyone else, before quickly resuming his stone-faced vigil over the room. "Besides the point. We've got a rather large problem now, Captain Jones."

"Right," Adam agreed. "We're outnumbered as always, we're outgunned, and we just lost the closest thing we have to an equalizer and four additional men, unless Shen manages to come up with something for Jerry fast. I think there's only 25 of us combat fit right now, and we're against the entire ADVENT regime. Even with the Skirmishers and Reapers, we're going to be having a hell of a time. We need to keep our ears to the ground and come up with a game plan, _together_. We're in a worse spot now than we've ever been, and we can't afford many more fuckups like this one."

"Ain't got it in us to keep losing experienced guys, Cap," Declan agreed. "Hell, Hitman's gotta be understaffed as shit now."

"At least they have Bridget," Remi said. "Wolf Mother doesn't have any bench guys, and neither does Menace."

"I'll strike my team from the muster temporarily," Wolf Mother offered. "Help you guys out on ops where I can. Freddie, Kyle, Tomo, that sound good?"

"Ya bet it does," Kyle agreed.

"Of course," followed Fyodor.

"No big deal, been meaning to get out from under your boot anyway," Tomohiro finished, drawing Wolf Mother's glare.

"Good. That's one less problem we have to address." Adam looked over the troops one last time, and gave them all a nod of approval. "I'll talk to the Commander about what we're going to do. For now, ready yourselves. We've got…"

Adam paused. He didn't know what to say, really. 'Hard times' was a gross understatement. "Wolf Mother, you and your team can disperse. Sophie, if you want to check in with Jerry, I won't stop you. Shoot me a status report on Roderick while you're there. Joseph, Alex, get on the bridge and start spitballing. I want some kind of idea as to where Murphy might be. Talk to the resistance, talk to Bradford, talk to Grace, talk to anyone you can, just give me _something_." His voice was unintentionally rising, quaking with every syllable as he attempted to contain his rage. He'd lost one of his men, and he'd lost his brace. His stability was on a wire thread right now, and that wire was being pulled taut.

And those fucking kids left them all behind They turned tail, and ran. ' _Not a single one stayed.'_

Those he'd given instructions to left the room, but the rest stayed. For the most part, it was people that Adam trusted (save for Remi). As such, he now felt comfortable letting down his guard enough to properly express his current feelings.

Starting with grabbing one of the bottles off of the bunkroom's center table, and pitching it at the wall with a loud " **FUCK!** ", and punting the table hard enough to lift it off the floor.


	26. Chapter 26

Team JNPR had a difficult first day of adjustments, but, thankfully, day two had gone down a bit easier. They'd resumed a regular habit — inter-team lunch with Team RWBY. They'd picked a time when the cafeteria was a bit less busy, and so it was only the eight of them and, of all the people, Team CRDL off by themselves. Ruby was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement at seeing her friends again, and even Weiss seemed a bit more smiley and jokey than usual, even with Jaune present. It was a nice change, but something about it still felt _off_ to Jaune. He wasn't sure what it was.

Still - they were home. That couldn't be discounted.

"So," Ruby started, attempting to come up with a safe topic to broach for all of them. She'd tried to ask about the whole 'Earth' situation previously, but Ren had sort of locked up, and Blake had the impression that JNPR as a whole didn't particularly want to talk about it anymore. "You guys remember that the dance is coming up?"

"Yeah, it is," Pyrrha replied, making an attempt to sound enthused. For some reason, she'd taken a particular melancholy after returning to Remnant, keeping almost entirely to herself. She rarely even left JNPR's dorm room unless there was food involved, or Jaune requested it of her directly. No one really had the heart to ask. "Weiss, aren't you on the planning committee?"

"Oh, I'm only the vice-president. it's no big deal," Weiss said, half-facetious. "Coco's a tyrannical overlord, I tell you. Everything must be ' _chic_ ' or ' _fabulous_ ' or some other such nonsense. I have an eye for decor myself, but she has _zero_ restraint. We're already halfway through our budget."

"She does strike me as the type to go overboard," Blake said, eyes not moving from Pyrrha. It was obvious she'd been concerned ever since JNPR first got back, but Pyrrha was the only member of Team JNPR who Blake seemed to spend much time with. As it turned out, she was the first to learn that Blake was a Faunus, partly because she'd been active in campaigning against Faunus discrimination after she got a platform from her championship wins. After that the two had become quick friends, and it seemed that Blake was keen to unearth her distress in particular. "Pyrrha, do you have a partner in mind?"

"Partner for what?" Pyrrha asked, her gaze on the table's surface.

"The dance."

"Oh, right. No. No, I don't. It's a bit early to be thinking of that."

Yang smirked and cut her eyes to Jaune, repeatedly cocking her eyebrows. He didn't like the way Yang was going with this—his partner was in a righteous funk and all she could think about was trying to hook them up . A veil of silence once again fell over the table. Blake looked at Jaune, her bow shifting slightly as she frowned at him with an unsaid _'I tried.'_

Jaune appreciated the effort, he really did, but these little pokes and prods weren't doing anything for Pyrrha. He'd sit her down and have a heart-to-heart later, hopefully get to the bottom of this. _'That's what a leader's supposed to do, right?'_

"You guys are such downers today! I have just the thing for it though, don't you worry."—Nora chirped, jumping up from the table and running off to the front of the cafeteria—"I'll be right back!". She must have seen something she liked, because she didn't even wait for Ren. RWBY and J_PR watched as she practically bowled over Team CRDL in search of… Something.

"She's certainly perked up since getting back," Weiss noted. "It's almost as if she was never injured."

"Yeah, it's pretty _shocking_ that she'd be back to normal this fast, huh?" Yang asked, smirking at an extremely unamused Ruby.

"Yang. Stop."

"You act like this hasn't happened before, Ruby," Weiss said, turning to look at Yang. "Yang, puns are possibly the most juvenile form of humor in the-"

"HEY WEISS!" Nora shouted.

"Nora, I was tal-"

Weiss was interrupted mid-sentence and mid-turn by a wad of whipped cream slapped on what could barely qualify as a 'pie' smacking her in the cheek and splattering across her face.

"Oh, shi-!" Yang started, before devolving into a fit of chuckles.

Weiss slowly stood up and grabbed the stale, probably month-old, baguette that had been sitting in the center of the table, which had previously been treated by the two teams to the same sort of fearful reverence of an angry spider. The heiress's dainty little hands trembled as she slowly raised the baguette at Nora, her aura visibly coalescing around the bread and hardening it further.

"Are you _challenging_ me?"

Nora grinned like a madwoman in response, already preparing another projectile in her off-hand. At the table, Yang was doing the same at Ren, slowly rising with her hands under her tray, preparing to launch its contents at him.

"Yang, don't do it," Blake and Ren said simultaneously, though the former had the slightest inkling of a smile creeping up her features.

"I'm gonna do it," Yang stated, before, indeed, doing it. "FOOD FIGHT, THE SEQUEL!"

* * *

 _Meanwhile, on Earth._

"You're goin' to do it, aren't you?" Sophie asked.

"Yep," Jerry muttered under his breath, looking at his new hand. Everything past the wrist was metal now, some sort of skeletal reconstruction created by Shen to resemble a hand. It was thin, rail-like, and ugly, with the only contours on it being the hard edges of metal and small rubberized caps to keep the joints from rusting. It functioned just like his old hand, but it didn't _feel_ like a hand, even if it was apparently directly jacked into his nervous system. "Shen says it's fully combat capable."

"It's not your hand, though. Are you sure it's not going to get in the way?"

"It'll take some getting used to, but I'll make do. Besides, it's supposed to be a quick one. In and out. Just some Lost."

"' _Just some Lost,_ ' he says, as if they aren't a threat." Sophie frowned, biting her lip and trying her best to dissuade him through visual disapproval alone.

"This is the only thing we have resembling a lead on the Chosen. We gotta take this, and I gotta be there for if it goes south. We don't have another medic."

Sophie exhaled hard through her nose. Jerry was right, and she knew it.

"Who else is going?" she asked.

"Roddy volunteered immediately, same with Lex. Adam's picking our other two."

"Do you think Adam can handle it? He seems… off. More quiet than he used to."

"Murphy was the guy's restraint. I don't know how he's keeping it together without him," Jerry explained, "but it's obvious Adam knows it as much as we do, and wants him back. To be fair to the guy, we don't have anyone else with Pre-War leadership experience. Lex has only been a leader in a boardroom, not a combat op."

"Yeah. Guess you have a point." Sophie looked at the digital clock next to Jerry's bed. "Almost zero hour. I'd better let you get ready."

"Yeah. I'll be back soon."

"Hope so."

Sophie leaned in and pressed a feather-light kiss to his forehead before standing up, and strolling out of the room. At the pace she was going, it was obvious she was getting away so that she didn't have second thoughts and come rushing back to fight him. Fair enough. Even if he had her latched around his ankle, Jerry would be doing this. He owed it to Murphy. Adam wasn't the only one who needed to be put on a leash.

Jerry pulled the glove over his newly metallic fist, and flexed his fingers a few times. There was a bit of clicking, still, but nothing a little use couldn't fix. He'd just have to make do with his off hand.

After Yang's brazen assault on Ren, the situation rapidly devolved into the promised _food fight_. Yang dove off to one side, seeking to arm herself, while Ren grudgingly did the same. Ruby jumped headlong across the table to arm herself with a nearby free-standing chair, leaving Jaune frantically searching for something with which to defend himself from incoming soda cans. Blake, meanwhile, simply embraced the madness with a straight face, turning again to a set of sausage links as a stand-in for Gambol Shroud. At least this time the cafeteria was mostly empty, as CRDL had beaten a hasty retreat the moment the food started flying.

Goodwitch was going to kill them all for sure this time. This food fight was already shaping up to be a lot more… _destructive_ than the last.

The 'fighting' was fast and furious - Yang was trying to punch the daylights out of Pyrrha's meal tray with her 'weapons', which Pyrrha was rather blasély throwing into the path of Yang's muffin-coated fists with her Semblance rather than actually wielding it. Ren was trying his best to dodge Weiss's bread-fencing techniques, and Ruby was just picking on Jaune, beaning him with a soda can every time he went for a weapon using her Semblance.

That left Nora unaccounted for. Blake quickly stood up and whipped her impromptu meat chain over her head, and was rewarded with a _thwack_ as something heavy hit the table she was hiding behind. Nora's yelp of surprise immediately followed, as did the sound of something squishing against the floor.

At least she hadn't found another watermelon-on-a-stick. That part of the previous food fight was rather… inconvenient.

Speaking of inconvenience, Blake found herself being called on her Scroll, and dove under the table to check and see if it was anyone actually important. Once she managed to fish it out of her pocket, she noted that it wasn't the dummy number her mother or father used to attempt to contact her. Instead, it was Eric. As much as she wanted to ignore it and get back to the madness and attempt to salvage her team's sanity, Eric probably needed her for something. Accepting the call, she brought the Scroll up to her ear. Video mode wasn't an option.

"Hello?"

 _"Hey, Blake, it's Eric- damn, it's loud on your end. You okay?"_

"Long story, what's going on?"

 _"Uh… the bookstore you told me about is closed."_

Oh. Right. Tukson…

"Yeah. I saw something about it on the news today, but… I didn't remember to give you a call."

 _"Yeah, it's tough. I figured it out myself. You came here often?"_

"Is that all you wanted to talk about, Mr. Frost?"

 _"It's Eric, and...Uh, no. Do you know where my bag is?"_

"Why do you need your bag?"

 _"I don't, I'm just asking."_

Blake didn't believe that it was just about the bag, for some reason. Call it intuition from being the equivalent of a domestic terrorist. "Eric, what's going on?"

 _"I don't know. I don't have anything other than my jacket and my wallet but I got a feeling that's not gonna cut it. Might need a few extra bucks. Hey, lemme get back to you in a second."_

"Eric?"

The line went silent for all of a minute, and only the din of the food fight could be heard. Blake was starting to worry. Was Eric possibly… in trouble?

"Eric, what's going on?"

 _" There's a guy who's been following me ever since I got off the bus… make that two."_

The man had proven to be paranoid before. Blake felt bad for him. He probably was one of the many people who hadn't heard the news about Tukson. "Eric, are you sure?"

 _" Went to Junior's place to talk to the guy, ask him some questions about something I heard. Some guys walked out of the bar after me, and they've been behind me ever since. That was about twenty minutes ago."_

Twenty minutes seemed like too long to be a coincidence. "Where are you?"

 _"I'm on my way to the bus stop on Hyacinth Street, on the Boardwalk. Gonna see if I can't sneak onto the bus back to Beacon."_

"I'll meet you there."

 _"Blake, I don't think that's a good idea."_

"If you're being followed, do you really think you'll be able to get away from them long enough to get on a bus?"

 _"... one of 'em stopped. He's going off another way. Don't think I'm in the clear yet, but I think if I lose 'em here they might get tied up looking for me. I'm kinda near the back alleys right now."_

"Eric," Blake started, her voice firm. "Do not go into the alleys. If they're following you, they're going to try and corner you."

 _"I know, but I'm expecting them to. I got a plan."_

"I got a plan!" Roderick shouted, his voice filtered by his helmet.

"Hope it's a fucking good one, Roddy!" Alexios shouted back, throwing one of the Lost to the ground before firing his weird… bolt gun thing. Jerry hadn't fought these things before, and neither had any of Hitman Team. The rendezvous had been Menace's op. He didn't think zombies would actually be… intimidating.

There was just so many of the damn things.

"Okay, where's the HVT?"

"Behind the bar, with Tomo!"

"Tomo, check!" Alexios shouted.

"I'm good!" Tomohiro shouted.

"Alright. Grab her, and get to the back door. We'll make some noise to draw their attention off you!" Roderick ordered.

"Good plan!" Adam agreed. "Get it done!"

"On it!"

With that, Tomohiro grabbed the scientist, Dr. Kiriyama, if Jerry remembered her name right, and escorted her to the back door. He realized something was wrong about the same time Jerry did. There was noise on the other end of that door.

"Something back he-" he started, and he never finished. One of the Lost, a bigger, meaner one than usual, took the door off its hinges and leapt at him. He got lucky, popped off a few shots to its head as he put himself between the doctor and the door, but it wasn't just the one. More started coming in, immediately grabbing Adam's attention, along with that of Lawrence.

"Shit." Jerry hissed, turning around and raising his SMG. The first of the Lost that came through got a good bit of mag through his head courtesy of Adam, and the second got the same from Jerry, but the third got wise, and ducked low, diving at Tomo as he started firing again. It died for the attempt, but it succeeded in flying into his gun arm, knocking the weapon out of his hands and forcing him to draw his sword.

"Secure the bloody HVT, NOW!" Adam ordered, drawing his second pistol and emptying downrange at the door. "We're bugging out!"

Jerry took off, grabbing Tomo's gun from where it'd been sent sailing in front of him, the metal of his new fingers scraping against the polymer as he lifted it up. God, that sound was annoying. In the meantime, he was raising his weapon with his free hand, easing the trigger to fire single shots, for accuracy's sake. Not that he had to be accurate, considering that the Lost were falling over themselves to get in the door.

"Back door's a bit cramped!" Lawrence shouted over the cacophony. "We need an alternate exfil!"

"Isn't there a second floor of this building?" Lex asked. "We can cross the rooftops!"

"We can, I don't know about her. Doc, do you think you can jump?" Tomo asked.

The doctor certainly did not look like she thought so, and shook her head.

"Well, get over it, you're learning today." With that, they were off. Tomo practically hurled the young woman over the bar, where she managed to scramble to her feet and run towards Lawrence, who was already motioning for her to follow him to the door.

"I'll cover our ass, move it!" Lawrence commanded, and no one dared question him. Even if Adam was _technically_ in command of this op, he'd seemed content to defer to Lawrence's expertise today.

"I'll take point with the VIP!" Tomo replied, moving forward to do so.

"Alright then, let's fuckin' hustle, boys! Evac's here in T-minus one-ten!" Adam shouted, slowly walking back towards the door himself, pistols blazing. Jerry mirrored him, keeping a somewhat slow pace and steady base of fire to try and keep the heat off Tomo, Lex, and Roddy.

"Alright, HVT on the way up!" Lawrence shouted. "Let's bug out!"

Jerry turned first, and started running. The Lost were faster than them, but they had a bit of a head start and a solid steel door behind them. One that they'd entered through earlier, Jerry remembered. One that had a metal pipe next to it.

 _'Yeah. Good idea. Barricade the door.'_

"Lawrence, shove that metal pipe in when you shut the door!" he shouted back. He got no response, but about halfway up the stairs he chanced a look over his shoulder. Lawrence was doing just that, having slammed the door shut and jammed the bar with all his might into the handle. A pull door would have stereotypically been enough to solve the problem, but as Declan had so helpfully informed them, the fuckers knew how those worked.

Once they were on the roof, the faint green smog surrounding what used to be old inner-city Detroit surrounded them. He grew up in Battle Creek, but New-D was a home away from home. It was where his stepdad and mom both worked, so he was commonly in town with them for one reason or another. They'd always told him ' _don't go to Old Town_ '. Now he knew why.

* * *

" _Eric, if they corner you, you won't be able to fight back. You don't have an Aura."_

"Don't need one," Eric stated, taking a sharp left to go into the alley. One of the guys following him had taken a left turn three alleys prior, so he'd be coming from the left too. Probably would be best to either take a right or keep going straight ahead and hope he didn't catch Eric slipping. The guy behind him would be turning the corner in about ten seconds if he didn't speed up. "I have a gun."

 _"Where are you?"_

"I told you. On my way to the bus stop. Talk to you in a bit."

With that, Eric hung up. He assumed that this 'Scroll' thing had some kind of locator in it. He put it in his back pocket, just to be safe, and checked his waistband. Pistol was there, and he had some mags right behind his wallet. He'd only need a few bullets. He needed an alcove or something to hide in, to sneak up on this next guy. His friend could catch up later.

At the next junction he passed, he saw a back door with a small awning; brick, and it covered all

the lines of sight except directly in front of the door. That would do. He made a point of waiting until the guy was looking right at him. Weird looking guy he was, too. Green hair, what looked like scales on his neck…This planet was certainly strange.

"Why the fuck are you following me?" Eric asked. It was worth a try.

The guy pulled something out of his pocket. Looked like a knife. Probable cause enough.

The guy slowly walked up to the intersection, then stopped. He seemed to be looking for Eric. If he wasn't a brainless idiot, he'd immediately see the awning and look. Eric slowly, quietly pulled his handgun, and waited.

As it turns out, the guy was an idiot.

He'd learned from some random nut he'd met while he was in the woods that he could enhance his weapon with 'Dust'. Guy was a survivalist of some kind, big on ' _out-Grimm'ing the Grimm_ ' or something like that. He showed Eric a few tricks before going on his merry way. . As such, what was once a simple, unassuming Sig Sauer P226 was now, for all intents and purposes, a gun-taser. Not that he really needed the taser part for this, but if there was one thing he learned in Delta, it was that you used whatever you got.

The moment the guy started to pass him, Eric raised his weapon and fired. It was a clean kill. Right through the side of the head. The guy didn't even see it coming. His friend definitely would, though. This was the hard part.

 _'This guy must not have had an Aura, or whatever it is. It was way too easy.'_ Eric wasn't sure he understood exactly how this world's space magic crap worked, but he'd figure it out someday. In the meantime, he looked for anything useful on the body, but found little. A couple of cards with no ID, and a weapon in his hand- looked like some kind of knife, but kitted up with a bunch of unnecessary accessories and ports.

He'd make do.

Taking the knife, Eric placed it in his off hand, and braced his pistol over his wrist. He'd catch this other guy, one on one was definitely better on him than one on two.

"Sherry!?" came a feminine voice from a short ways down the alley, to the right. Evidently number two had taken the long way around to cut him off. Smart move, in theory. In practice… Well, they probably didn't know who he was. "Sherry, you good!?" she called again.

"Sherry's definitely not doing too well!" Eric shouted. "Now, the question is, you gonna tell me why you and Sherry were following me?"

There was no response.

"I'm giving you an out here, lady!"

No response. So be it. Eric turned the corner, and began walking towards the sound of the voice, hugging the wall. There wasn't much cover between his end of the alley and hers until he got almost to the street on the other side, and there was no way she was the only one who heard the gunshot. Her inquiry was stupid- she'd given away where she was not only to him, but to everyone else around. It was a wonder no one had come to investigate, considering it was about noontime.

The woman who'd spoken turned the corner. She was tall, taller than him, and thin. He recognized the hair. Blank white. Her equally white eyes immediately met his, and he shifted his aim to accommodate.

"It's loaded, lady," Eric said. "And I know how to use it."

The woman grimaced at him. "You…"

"Yeah, I killed your buddy. You want to walk out of this alley?" Eric jerked his head in the direction of 'Sherry'. "Or you wanna end up like him?"

The woman started walking towards him, punching her palm and sending a surge of blank white energy up her arms. That looked like that Aura stuff to him. Not that he'd seen it, but Eric liked to think he was good at guessing. Eric wasn't about to wait to find out, putting three rounds downrange in quick succession.

All of which did nothing to the woman.

 _'Oh, shi-'_

The woman's pace increased rapidly, until she was within practically spitting distance of Eric. If he kept trying to shoot through her, he'd hit a civilian. The last thing he wanted to do was put the life of a stranger at stake for whatever _this_ was, so it looked like he was gonna have to do this the hard way.

Putting his left leg behind him, he holstered his pistol again, just as the woman was getting into, appropriately, knife-fight range. As soon as she'd gone for the first haymaker, he'd ducked, ramming his shoulder into her stomach and pushing her back long enough for him to switch the knife to a reverse grip in his left hand. Immediately, he went on the offensive. No kill this time. He wanted to know who the hell was following him, and to do that, he needed this one alive… at least temporarily.

 _'Let Oz sort it out, Eric. You're not judge, jury, and executioner out here.'_

The woman was using some sort of brass knuckles of some kind, but with what appeared to be electrical wiring attached. Probably had some sort of taser built in. Not good. One or two solid hits, and he'd be down for the count, He'd have to subdue her fast. It was good for him she was so sloppy as to throw an obvious haymaker. Grabbing her arm, he spun underneath, and slammed it against his shoulder, expecting to feel some sort of give, especially once he tried to torque it again, but… nothing. Only the feeling of getting smashed in the kidney by the woman's free hand. At least she wasn't using the taser knuckle. Quickly disentangling himself, he made a quick slash at the woman's face with his knife, doing absolutely nothing but make a shallow cut below her eye, which almost instantly mended. The woman stopped, touching her face before smiling at Eric.

"So," she said. "You really don't have an Aura."

"Who said that?"

"Someone who asked me and Sherry to kill you. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and then you somehow killed my partner. It doesn't matter. The job will get done in the end, and there'll be one less human polluting the world."

Eric wasn't sure what all this 'pollution' business was about, but it was obvious he and this chick weren't going to be talking this one out. As such, it fell to the knife again. She didn't even attempt to avoid his strike, just letting him cut her across the chest, before throwing up her arm to catch his knife hand mid-stab, and punching him in the gut twice, pressing him against the wall while she did it.

"I think I'm going to take my time with this. Enjoy watching you suffer."

"Oh, would you just _fuck off_?" Eric grunted, maintaining his death grip on the knife, before swinging again, this time with a bit more weight behind it. The woman made a token effort to block this time, as she did with the follow up slash, but Eric wasn't aiming to do it with the knife this time. While she was occupied with his frenzied attacks, he was reaching with his free hand for his gun. With a wide, looping slash from the outside in, he used his momentum to carry his free hand towards his waist, and grabbed his pistol, before drawing it on the woman and pointing it right between her eyes.

Then, he pulled the trigger...

...and it did absolutely nothing.

Well, absolutely nothing wasn't entirely correct. She did stumble backwards from the force, and the whitish glow of energy around her crackled and sparked, but she wasn't anywhere near as hurt by it as someone who was shot in the face should have been. Still, he knew that Aura didn't completely eliminate pain or impact now, though. He could use that. It meant that he'd have to fight smart, but he could use it.

The woman was predictably angry that he'd pulled a fast one on her, and immediately went back to her strategy of swinging for the fences. Eric weaved out of the way of her first wing, then backed out of the second, before raising his gun and firing another bullet that hit her in the shoulder, causing her to drop out of a followup with the opposite hand and dedicate herself to another swing with what he assumed was her leading arm. Eric ducked that as well, throwing a savage kick to her midsection that lifted her only slightly, before jamming his knife into the back of her neck. Still no contact, but he noticed that he'd managed to break the skin. It was a start.

Eric felt something yank on his hair as the woman grabbed a fistful of it, and threw him to the concrete, before reading another punch while he was down. Reacting quickly, he managed to roll aside, before firing two more bullets that did little more than stagger her. Then, he rose, swinging his pistol like a club, the bottom of the magazine smashing into the woman's head, which was immediately followed by an attempt at a knee strike. She caught that one though, grabbing his leg and preparing her elbow to attempt to snap it.

Eric had already dealt with enough broken limbs on Remnant. He jumped off his other foot, throwing his leg out and dropkicking her in the face before firing three more rounds at his target, causing her to throw her arm up in an attempt to stop herself from being shaken again. He scampered back to his feet, creating a little bit of breathing space between the two of them.

"Who the hell did I piss off to get a hit on me?" he asked.

"The wrong people. Simple as that," came the reply. The woman wiped something off her lip, and snarled. Eric suddenly noticed that there were thick white hairs on the back of her palm. Almost like.. Fur?

"No, it's not 'simple as that'. Who the fuck sent you to kill some random guy?" Eric asked again, brandishing his knife. He was starting to get a bit annoyed at the lack of communication. Not that she was obligated to tell him anything at this point, but still, a bit of information would be nice. Why wasn't this like a movie, where the hitman was cocky and gave away their employer the moment they walked into frame?

"You overheard some things you weren't supposed to hear," she replied.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, lady, and if you don't give me a fucking name, I'm going to end you right here and now."

The woman smirked, rolling her wrists as she assumed a fighting stance again. "You actually think you can kill me?"

"I got your boy Sherry, didn't I?"

That was enough to get her moving. The woman rushed in, already priming a swing that was far too wide to avoid retaliation. Eric wove in, slashing at her stomach with the knife before aiming a backhanded stab at her back. He still hadn't punched through the Aura, but he was making progress. He just had to survive, wear her down, and get a name. Something about killing that Sherry guy sat badly with him.

"He was a fuckin' idiot, you know." Eric said, brandishing the knife again. "I was close enough to touch him and he still didn't see me. Just sat there staring down the alley like a deer in the headlights."

She wasn't exactly getting into it just yet, but he was rattling her, he could tell. Already, she was throwing out another wild swing that came far short of actually hitting him. Another smashed into his good arm, sending a shock up to his shoulder. _'Damn, people are way stronger here than at home.'_ Still, undeterred, he forced that arm aside, ducked the followup swing, and threw a haymaker of his own that hit the woman directly in the jaw, causing her to take a stumbling step backwards.

"Did he even have an Aura, or was he just enough of a pussy that one bullet did the trick?" Eric asked, smiling as he did his best to mock a guy he'd never even met until he'd brained him. "I cleaned his fucking head out all over that side street. He's got a nice little toothpick, too, think I might keep it!"

The woman growled, growing rage evident in her every move as she threw out another swing at him, brushing past his cheek inches away from contact, which he responded to with a kick that separated them by about a half a foot before resuming his attempts to goad her into a mistake.

"I might go back once I'm done with you, since you two seemed so adamant on pissing me off. Get a little souvenir from the both of you, maybe some of those ugly-lookin' scales on his neck. Show whoever the fuck hired you that you don't fuck with me!"

"Shut up!" came the response, barely-restrained hatred in each syllable. He was getting under her skin. Her swings were faster, wilder, and she was responding less and less to his dodges and counter strikes. When she prepared to step in for another swing with her right, Eric took his opportunity.

As her foot went up, Eric's feet moved forward, the ex-Delta sliding under her blows and swinging his right leg behind her left, before swinging his own left with all his might and smashing his shin into the inside of her leg. The pain was sharp and immediate, but as he'd come to learn over the fight, Aura only slightly mitigated impact force. The leg kick was enough to destabilize her, leaving her stumbling forward, and Eric seized the opportunity, diving at the taller woman and tackling her to the ground, landing awkwardly on her back as she face planted on the pavement.

Immediately, he went back to work, smashing the butt of the knife into the back of her head while trying to maneuver himself to put her in a chokehold. She wasn't done fighting back yet, jamming repeated elbows into his side, but Eric knew that if he didn't fight through the pain, she'd be able to pin him down. He'd have a hell of a time surviving punches to the head like the ones he'd been catching with his ribs. Unfortunately, he couldn't lock in the choke, and the woman started to push herself to her knees, Eric still clobbering away and holding on as best he could.

"You're putting up a lot more fight then I thought you would," the woman said, her voice strained by exertion as she fought her way up to her feet.

"I don't plan on dyin' here today," Eric responded, trying to leverage himself and force his weight on her upper body, maybe force her to hunch over. It wasn't working. "What about you!?"

* * *

 _Earth_

"Lady, I don't plan on fucking dying here today, fucking jump!" Jerry shouted. He understood the woman's fear- of all the times to get unlucky, Tomo had picked now. He'd jumped perhaps only a second too early, and smashed into the wall of the next building far too low to get a grip and pull himself up. Jerry didn't watch the fall, but he heard the impact. Now the good doctor seemed intent to just… die. "

"I can't make it!" she shouted. "I-I can't!"

"Take your fucking heels off and JUMP!" Jerry demanded. "I got you!"

"Either you stay over there and the Lost get you, or you jump and we get you to extract," Alexios explained, a bit more calmly. "Come on. You can do it."

The woman stood there like a bump on a log for another few seconds, before giving a quick, shaky nod and moving to take off her shoes. Lawrence, from his position next to her, seemed pretty unamused by the whole situation.

"You're not at your house, lady, we've got a bunch of zombie motherfucks poundin' on that door, and they want your ass," Lawrence said, motioning with his gun. "Hurry up!"

"Y-you go first!" she said.

"Age before beauty, then, hurry the fuck up!" Adam demanded. "Firebrand's waiting on us."

Lawrence sighed, and slung his rifle over his back. "Jerry, you got me?"

"Yeah!"

Lawrence, being as he was an older man, was gonna have a tougher time of it than the rest of the team. Still, he was a tough old SOB for his age. Jerry had faith. The old sharpshooter walked over to the other side of the roof, closer to Jerry's right, which confused the medic a bit until he realized what was there.

A metal scaffold. If Tomo had paid attention and jumped there, he probably would have made it. Evidently, though, only just now had Lawrence noticed it. The old man took off running as fast as he could, and jumped. Jerry managed to close the distance to his destination, but Lawrence was already midair before he could throw his arm out. Lucky for him, then, that Lawrence landed on the scaffold, stumbling into the windowsill of the building under them and tumbling awkwardly into the room on the other end with a loud "Shit!"

"You good, Lawrence?" Jerry asked.

"Just get the lady to jump where I did, I got it."

Jerry looked up at Doctor Kiriyama, and motioned to the scaffold. "If you can land here, I got you!"

"O-okay. I think I can make that."

"Then jump!"

As if to emphasize his urgency, the door they'd come up to the roof from was already trembling. They'd managed to get through, or at the very least around, Lawrence's makeshift barricade. Doctor Kiriyama caught that, so of course, she immediately took off running towards Jerry. She jumped too early, barely clearing the roof and risking a very nasty landing on the edge of the scaffold. Instinct took over, and Jerry threw his arm out, stretching so far off from the roof to grab her that Roderick had to grab a hold of his free, non-metal wrist to hold him steady. Luckily, it was room enough. The Doctor landed rough, her waist smashing into the metal barrier on the scaffold, but Jerry's (literally, now) iron grip clamped down on her wrist, causing something to give just slightly under the pressure. Kiriyama screamed, but it didn't matter. He had her in hand. Lawrence was already out the window again, grabbing the woman and helping her over the barrier while Roderick pulled Jerry back onto the roof.

"Okay, we got her, let's go!"

"Jerry, holy shit, I think you broke this poor woman's hand," Lawrence noted, with the faintest hint of a chuckle in his voice. "God _damn_."

* * *

 _Remnant_

Eric's struggle was nearing its end, one way or another. His opponent's Aura wasn't flashing nearly as brightly when he managed to strike her, but he was finding it harder and harder to keep swinging. Unlike him, though, she was perfectly fine under her Aura, if a bit worn by the fight thus far.

Exhaustion was still a thing, with or without Aura. Good to know.

Eric had finally cinched in a grip on his opponent, but she was already almost up to her feet. Not good, considering that choking seemed to only be slowing her down and annoying her. Worst of all, there were a lot of places to try and dislodge him in this alley. Mustering what strength he could, he resumed smashing the pommel of Sherry's knife into the back of the woman's head, his other arm still locked in a death grip around her neck, though she was quickly attempting to remedy that with her own arms. Blow after blow landed, until suddenly, her Aura crackled brightly again. The next blow caused her to noticeably buckle, and much to Eric's (very limited) relief, her Aura didn't flash. ' _Must be fresh out_ '. Still, she was able to get a firm grip on his wrist and yank him off her back, slinging him like a bag of bricks into the concrete and knocking the wind out of him.

"You… put up a lot of **fucking** fight…" the woman noted, her breaths short and harsh as she rubbed the back of her head, nursing the harsh blow she'd been dealt. "I'm fucking sick of you."

 _'Feeling's mutual'_ was what Eric wanted to say, but his lungs refused to cooperate. His arms felt like they were on fire, his legs felt like they were on fire, everything felt like it was on fire. He could hardly breathe, hardly move, hardly keep his eyes open. It was all he could do to keep the knife in his grip.

 _'This bitch is gonna kill me if I don't get up right the fuck now. Come on, Eric, you didn't get this far just to die in a back alley in the middle of some alien bumfuck, millions of miles away from LA and too fucking tired to fight it_.'

The woman grabbed Eric by the scruff of his hair, and decked him in the face. His nose shifted at an awkward angle with a loud crunching sound, and his vision went blurry.

He still had the knife. The woman didn't have an Aura.

Another punch, just as hard as the last. He could feel his cheek split open, feel blood running down into his jaw. One of the scars on his face, ones that had only just been healed by Beacon's resident weird magic doctor, split open again, sending a cascade of red down into his right eye.

He still had the knife.

Now he was being lifted up, and slammed into a wall, his eyes slamming shut as the back of his head smashed into brick, and another hammering punch hit him in the temple.

The woman didn't have an Aura.

With all the strength he could muster in his concussed, brutalized state, Eric raised the knife, and swung downwards, aiming for the woman's neck. She grabbed his hand at the wrist, stopping him far short of his destination.

"That's the best you got?" she asked, starting to grin. "All the sudden, you're just half-assing it. After all the fucking bluster you put up just a minute ago?"

Eric's grip on the knife shifted slightly as he attempted to futilely force his way out of her grip… and the hilt clicked. The blade was enveloped in a bright blue light, and then, the light shot forward in an exact copy of the blade, and buried itself in the woman's neck. Her response was visceral, and immediate, dropping Eric and stumbling backwards, attempting to remove the blade as it dissipated into dust.

Eric really, really could have used this earlier, but he'd make do. Braced against the wall, he shifted his grip on the blade to attempt to aim the thing, hard as that might be in his current state. The second blade he fired hit her in the left eye, perhaps by sheer luck, and caused her to slowly stumble back towards the opposite wall of the alley, crying out in agony as she attempted to cover the wound. Intent on ending the fight here and now, Eric drew his pistol from his pants and fired a single shot that hit the woman directly in the center of her chest, causing her to mirror his slow slump down the wall.

Eric took aim, and fired one last shot into her head.

"God… _damn._.." he muttered, before the pavement rushed up to meet him.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **God DAMN indeed, this came late. I apologize for how I've been kinda struggling to get things out- I recently moved to Texas, so a lot of my time and energy has been spent on getting a job and getting settled in here. I am trying for you guys! Please give me some feedback, so I can know that it's not hitting a wall.**


	27. Chapter 27

"It's ready."

A cold shock went straight up Junior's spine as those three syllables left Cinder's mouth. He couldn't see 'it' anymore, but everything about 'it' terrified him on some primal level. Whatever Cinder had been doing to make those horrific sounds the past couple of days couldn't have had anything good come out of it.

"Hoo, boy…" Moviy muttered, folding his arms as he leaned up against the warehouse wall. "That's a loud bastard, too. Can't imagine what they've done to it since the last time we saw it…"

"Like, what if we lose control of it?" Miltia asked, hiding half-behind Moviy. "That thing's pretty fuckin' big, boss."

"It will serve its purpose. I can open the portals it creates manually, now, so that once this trial run is complete we can send it off without any incident. There will be no trace left until we're ready to use it again," Cinder explained, looking back down the hallway. "Should my mistress find things on the other side… suitable… we'll also have a new staging area."

"New staging area?" Junior repeated, incredulous.

"Always pays to have the option to cut your losses," Roman explained as he stepped out from the corner behind Cinder. "If we need to run, we can just follow this thing… if it plays along."

"It will," Cinder stated, as if it were as certain as the color of the sky and the force of gravity. "Now… it's time. Everyone… I want you to watch. Roman, get the camera feed ready."

While Roman went off to do that, Cinder took a small device from the inside of her sleeve, and pressed down. There was a deafening roar from down the hallway, only slightly muffled by the bulkhead between it and them.

It was about to be a very bad day to be Valean.

* * *

"Man, are we lucky that you guys went missing for two days! Goodwitch managed to get that stick out of her butt long enough to show us a little bit of mercy."

Yang gave her fellow powerhouse a firm, but friendly punch to the shoulder, but Pyrrha wasn't exactly in the most jovial mood. Ever since she and her teammates returned to Remnant, her mind continued to wander back to Earth. The look Adam gave Jaune when he faltered in the face of that 'Chosen', Jerry's maimed and mangled hand, Wesley being essentially vaporized, all these images and more burnt into her brain.

' _You will be seeing far worse than a little bit of blood and bruising where you're going, Nikos. Again.'_

She was pretty certain that Marin was not talking about other worlds full of strange creatures when he gave that particular piece of advice.

"Hey, P-Money. Ground Control to P-Money, are you there, Space Cadet?" Yang asked, her voice tinted with the same sisterly concern she showed for Ruby underneath the jesting tone. It was obvious she had caught on. Blake was the first to notice, and had offered her a shoulder to lean on, but Pyrrha insisted that she was fine and could continue soldiering on. Blake wasn't there, she wouldn't understand.

Speaking of Blake…

"Pyrrha!" Yang half-shouted.

"Oh, sorry," Pyrrha replied. "I got distracted. What is it?"

"I was just talking about how we dodged a bullet, thanks to you. I think Goodwitch just figured you guys needed to let off some steam, so she let us all off with a warning again… only the look she gave us afterwards makes me think it's less of a warning and more of a _threat_ , ya know?"

"Ah… yes, Professor Goodwitch certainly has been more than kind…"

"Pyrrha." Yang's grabbed Pyrrha's shoulder and gave a slight tug, and bright violet eyes met green. "You okay? Okay, that's a dumb question, you're obviously not okay, but… what's going on? Ever since you guys went on your little trip to whereverland, you've been acting kind of out of it."

Pyrrha shook her head with a wan smile, knowing full well that it was too late to convince Yang that she was fine. Still, she'd try. "It's just been a rough adjustment, Yang. I'll be alright."

"You don't seem alright. I can't help you, or even try, if you don't tell me what's-"

Mercifully, Yang's attempt at forcing the issue was cut off by her Scroll buzzing off. With a frustrated sigh, the blonde brawler whipped the device out of her pocket, immediately looking surprised at the caller. She hit the button immediately, and brought it up to her ear.

"Yeah, Blake, what is it?"

Blake had disappeared at some point during the food fight, as by the time Glynda had walked into the carnage, Blake was nowhere to be found. Nora had assumed that she was a 'frickin' snitch', but Pyrrha doubted she would have gone without saying anything if that were her intention.

"Oh shit, I'm on my way- fine, I'll meet you guys at the bus stop. Is he gonna be okay?" Yang had already begun fiddling with her Scroll again, remotely unlocking her locker as she waited for a response.

Sure enough, it was something major. Whoever 'he' was sounded like he wasn't having a good time of it. Yang hung up, and performed a snappy about face before motioning for Pyrrha to follow suit. "Eric got jumped by a couple of goons in the city and hurt really bad."

That was rather alarming. As far as Pyrrha's research had indicated, back when she still lived in Mistral, Vale proper didn't have a very high crime rate. "How bad is 'bad'?" she asked.

"Blake said a broken nose and a busted up face, but he's not moving too well and is kinda out of it. He might be concussed. We should hurry."

"Right. Should we let our teams know?"

"Good idea, P, I'll shoot Weiss and Ruby a message."

As Yang did so, Pyrrha felt a sudden pang in her gut, a feeling of unease. Something about this whole situation felt… wrong.

* * *

The moment Eric had finished his conversation with her, Blake had been in motion, leaving the school grounds and hitting the road as fast as she possibly could. The man had already been severely injured once, and he'd only just recovered. While the nurse's Semblance was no slouch at fixing up ugly wounds, there was only so much a body could take in such a short time.

Eric didn't respond to any of her messages, but his Scroll, like most Beacon devices, had a tracking function, one that Ozpin had been generous enough to connect Blake to for the purposes of keeping tabs on her new charge. As strange as it was to entrust a grown man to a teenager, it was certainly coming in handy in the back alleys of Vale.

Immediately, her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of a dead body. Not Eric, thank the Brother Gods. It was a young man, not much older than her, with bright green scales dotting his neck. Some sort of reptile Faunus. His head was busted open by a single gunshot wound. Eric had managed to kill at least one of his assailants, then. Considering there was no sound of a struggle…

Blake took a turn down the alleys, immediately noting that there were two bodies down the way. Surprisingly, no one else beat her to the scene of the obvious fight, judging by the blood on the pavement and the two equally bloody figures before her. As she moved forward, it was revealed that one was a woman with a light coat of fur on her forearms lay with a bloody eye and a hole in her head, and on the other side lay a barely-conscious Eric.

"Eric!"

The man shifted ever so slightly, with a barely-audible groan that sounded something like "Not dead." Blake rushed over to the man's side, immediately noting the foggy look in his barely-open eyes and his obviously broken nose.

"Can you sit up?"

"...Help. Maybe."

Blake carefully grabbed the man by his good side, and started to push him upright against the wall. About halfway up, he managed to right himself on his own, which was promising- nothing appeared to be broken, at least nothing visible. "How badly are you hurt? Do you know?"

"Broken nose… bruised ribs, maybe even cracked… arms fucking hurt, kidneys fucking hurt… I'm alive," he responded. His voice sounded a bit stronger, now, more audible, but every word still came out as a half-groan. He was in a lot of pain.

Blake gave a nod, and a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'll let Ozpin know what's happened, and we can get you back to the nurse. Did… they… take anything from you?"

"No, not robbers. They said someone had sent them to take me out. I'd evidently gotten in _somebody's_ business."

"Who?"

"I woulda fucking told you if they'd told me," Eric snapped. "All I got was some sort of shit about 'humans polluting the world' and some shit. Didn't know ecoterrorism was a thing here."

It didn't take long after that for Blake to put two and two together. It was obvious whom Eric had crossed, but the question remained –' _how in the hell did he manage to piss off the White Fang?_ ' Impressive that the man had, apparently, within the span of a couple of days, made enemies of a terrorist organization.

"Regardless, we'll find out more from the authorities. Let's get you up on your feet, if you can walk."

Eric nodded, and extended an arm to Blake, bracing his other on the ground. As Blake began to pull him up, she heard a sound in the distance. Like… an animal roaring. Then the Grimm alarm began to wail from deeper in the city.

"That doesn't sound good," Eric noted as he pushed himself up to a knee. "What's that siren for?"

"Grimm attack," Blake replied, clipped. Already, she was in 'huntress' mode, trying to figure out the best way to keep Eric out of the line of fire while she investigated the source of the alarm. "Can you walk?"

"Think so, but I'm not going anywhere fast."

"Get inside one of these buildings and hide."

Eric didn't respond, which worried Blake. He was in no condition to fight anything, much less a Grimm. She turned back to look at him.

"Eric. _Hide._ "

"Fine. Let me know if you need backup."

With that done, Blake looked at her Scroll and opened up the map. The rest of Team RWBY was en route, and now JNPR was too, with Pyrrha neck and neck with Yang. The eight of them could handle anything the Grimm threw at them, that much she was sure of.

* * *

Considering the nature of the situation, it didn't take Ruby and Weiss very long to link up with their partners and Pyrrha. A giant, monstrous Grimm with tubes full of green liquid and giant pistons on its hands in the middle of Vale City tended to draw a lot of undue attention. Just as well, as that particular Grimm was making a mockery of every attempt by Yang to match it in fisticuffs.

Yang smashed into the pavement in front of Ruby, skidding to a halt and kicking up chunks of asphalt as she attempted to slow herself down. Shifting from 'sister' mode to 'leader' mode on a dime (or as fast as she figured a dime was), Ruby immediately attempted to take stock of the situation. "Yang! How bad is it?"

"This thing just won't fucking sit down!" Yang replied, cocking Ember Celica again. The Grimm was currently doing its best to smash Pyrrha and Blake as they danced and weaved through its blows, landing strikes that seemed to do almost nothing but slightly score its flesh.

Flesh. Grimm didn't have flesh.

The 'Grimm', or whatever it was, was a massive, hulking mountain of muscle almost ten feet tall vertically, with arms thicker than billboard posts and piston-like mechanisms attached to its fists. Tubes full of green liquid crisscrossed its back, and a metal plate with six green lights in two columns sat prominently in the center of its squat features, just above a roaring, spitting mouth full rows upon rows of jagged finally managed to get a hold of one of its attackers, batting Pyrrha off through the window of a nearby shop as if she were a gnat, before turning its attention to Blake, angrily slamming its arm pistons into the ground, and firing them, cracking the asphalt a good ten feet in every direction and sending Blake stumbling head-over-heels attempting to right herself.

"Okay!" Ruby said, bracing herself. "Weiss, can you slow this thing down at all?"

"I can try," the heiress replied.

Ruby then turned to her sister. "Try and keep its attention on you."

"Can do, sis."

With that out of the way, it was now 'go time'. Ruby propelled herself forward with a shot from Crescent Rose, swinging the scythe in midair in an attempt to bifurcate this thing before it could do any more damage. Judging by the sudden speed bump on her flight, that wasn't quite what happened, and indeed, a midair turn as she landed on the pulverized pavement made it clear that the creature had, at worst, received a flesh wound. As it turned to look at Ruby, however, Yang took the opportunity to add a few more to that one, throwing a barrage of shotgun blast/punches that rocked the creature temporarily. Its first retort was slowed down by one of Weiss' glyphs, enough so that Yang was able to force the arm aside and deck the creature right in the mouth. Unfortunately for her, however, its mouth was plenty usable, and plenty wide.

"Hey!" the blonde shouted, doing everything in her power to extricate her fist from the maw of her assailant as Ruby prepared for a second strafe of her target. Team JNR were visible down the road, closing fast, and both Pyrrha and Blake were rapidly rejoining the fight, the former grabbing her shield off the ground and throwing it like a discus, smashing the creature in the side of the head and forcing it to release its grip on Yang's arm. Yang responded to her newfound freedom by throwing a savage hook at her target, hitting her target at the exact same moment Ruby did. This time, Ruby used the halting of her momentum as a weapon in itself, twisting her body to swing the scythe around the creature's torso before firing Crescent Rose again, dragging the blade across its midsection and opening a deep wound. They were doing some significant damage, now.

Yang's next punch was caught by the creature, which responded with a piston-enhanced punch that flattened the blonde against the street and left her dazed. The green liquid filling the tubes on its back rapidly began to shift, pumping into the creature as its wounds, somehow, started to heal, slowly but surely.

"Are you _kidding_ me!?" Jaune asked, bracing his shield and preparing for the worst.

"Oh, joy," Weiss muttered, flicking the cylinder on Myrtenaster to Ice Dust.

"That… _thing_ is putting in some work… you'd think six huntresses in training would have killed it," Moviy muttered, dumbstruck. "Now it's eight-on-one, and the thing's not even slowing down."

"My mistress' enhancements were minute compared to what the creature already was," Cinder stated, folding her arms. "We simply improved what was already there. Healing factor included."

 _'As if this abomination wasn't bad enough,'_ Junior thought, _' now you're telling me the thing regenerates.'_

"So, is it gonna run?" Mercury asked. "It seems to have this whole thing wrapped up with a neat little bow."

"If it takes enough damage, it will retreat," Cinder explained. "The creature has a rather powerful survival instinct. If it believes it can live to fight another day, it will absolutely prioritize survival."

Junior had a hard time believing this thing was 'alive' after the fashion that he was, but he watched it wreak havoc on the two teams of kids nonetheless.

Whatever was in those tubes was making this beast that much stronger. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

What might take a tactical mastermind was finding a way to kill it, and Weiss was running out of ideas. This thing seemed to have split-second reflexes, capable of shifting between every single one of them with almost no effort. It was unbelievably strong, even for a quote-unquote 'Grimm', which it was becoming ever more clearly an inaccurate classification. Finally, the damn thing was _intelligent._ It had figured out that Yang, Pyrrha, and Nora were the primary powerhouses of its assailants, and focused on forcing them to stay at a distance, while focusing on her and Ren, the easiest targets to eliminate quickly.

She wouldn't go without a fight,not if she could help it, but the longer this fight went on the harder it became to hold to that. A sharp thrust from Myrtenaster bounced off the plates covering the creature's eyes, leaving a trail of ice in the blade's wake. The creature, annoyed, took a wild swipe with one of its massive fists, falling far short of hitting Weiss, but forcing her to relocate all the same as it buckled the pavement. One or two of those and her Aura would amount to but a wisp of dust in the wind. Sensing weakness, the creature charged, swinging its massive fists hand over hand after her in an attempt to paint the pavement with her. Were it not for a sudden, barely-visible force grabbing one of its gigantic arm pistons and yanking it backwards, Weiss would have likely been hit. Thankfully, it appeared Pyrrha had the situation under control, at least temporarily, using both of her hands to channel her Semblance and hold up the monstrosity's hands. It gave Weiss a previous few seconds to aim her next blow. Switching the chamber on Myrtenaster to Fire Dust, she braced her arm, and performed a thrust directly at the center of the creature's chest, easily breaking the skin and sending scorching heat out in a web of red-hot fire across its torso.

' _Let's see that green sludge heal_ _ **this**_ _.'_

Indeed, the tubes full of green ichor were pumping at a prodigious pace now, but the longer Weiss held down the trigger of Myrtenaster, the less the healing liquid seemed to be doing for the beast. Weiss smirked, satisfied that she'd finally found a way to kill this thing. Concentrate on one point, and burn it. It would certainly be wonderful to watch this thing kick and squirm as it was charred to a-

"-iss, MOVE!" Yang shouted from behind her, grabbing Weiss' attention, albeit a precious second too late. A pistoned fist broke free of Pyrrha's magnetic force through sheer willpower alone, and smashed Weiss directly in the face, sending a surge through her aura and pain all the way down to her toes as she went sailing back, losing her grip on Myrtenaster with the blade still in the creature's chest.

"Gods DAMMIT!" Yang shouted as she checked Weiss mid-air, grabbing her by the arm and swinging her about into a bearhug to kill her momentum. "You good?"

"My Aura's still up!" Weiss replied, regaining her bearings. "The damn abomination has my sword!"

"Well, I think his due date's up. Give me glyphs."

"Got it."

Weiss, ever prepared for the loss of her weapon, grabbed a small canister of Dust off her belt and filled her hand, before extending her palm towards the beast and calling forward a series of time dilation glyphs. The plan was simple, and executing it would simply come down to how hard Yang could throw a punch after taking quite a few from this thing. As Yang took off running down the path that Weiss set, picking up speed at a rate that would make a racecar jealous, eyes blood red and hair burning gold, the monster turned to face her, arms cocked back to strike.

Ember Celica collided with one of the creature's fists with a deafening _crack_ and a surge of Aura. The beast howled in agony, and Yang threw punch after punch in response, throwing out haymakers that sent it stumbling every which way from the impact. Slowly but surely, Yang pushed it back up the street, only stopping when her fists were caught again by the creature mid swing. This time, however, it seemed too weak to simply crush her into the pavement or fling her aside like a ragdoll. It seemed to be all it could do to keep Yang from pushing it over as it roared in the blonde's face. Behind it, a small wisp of violet began to form in the air, slowly turning and circling as it opened into a portal, not unlike the one Team JNPR had stepped through when they returned from 'Earth'. Did that mean that this monstrosity _followed them_?

As Yang broke free of the creature's grip, it threw itself towards the rapidly expanding portal, only to be saturated with gunfire by a rapidly-approaching Ren, who seemed intent on blocking the path to said portal with his own body, should it become necessary, with Jaune and Blake right behind him. Undeterred, the creature continued to bull forward, swiping a massive arm and sending Myrtenaster flying free from its chest at last, the blade being sucked into the portal like some sort of invisible vacuum.

' _Oh, for the love of the Brother Gods, if I weren't rich…_ '

What was a lot less replaceable than a sword with SDC proprietary technology was a human being. A human being like Ren, who was currently flying into said portal as a result of being smacked flying towards it, as were Blake and Jaune. While the former joined Ren in crossing the threshold into the violet abyss, Jaune ground to a halt in front of it, looking back over his shoulder in a panic as he realized the situation. Immediately, Weiss sent out her glyphs again, picking up speed as she ran towards the beast, intent on finding a way to force that portal open while keeping that thing out of it. Yang, in the meantime, had caught up with it again, smashing hammer blow after hammer blow with Ember Celica as the creature attempted to wrestle her off of its back. The brawler leveraged her position and wrapped her arms around one of the lines full of fluid on the creature's back, ripping it out with vigor and sending green liquid flying in every direction, even splattering some of it on Weiss' face. It was like bleach and bile all in one unholy cocktail, and were it not for her focus being elsewhere at the moment, Weiss might have vomited on the spot.

"Keep that damn thing open!" came a shout from behind Weiss. Not any of the members of JNPR or RWBY, mind, but from Blake's charge, that 'Frost' character, who was limping towards them, sidearm in hand. It was obvious he had been severely injured, but it didn't seem to be keeping him down too much. The man raised his weapon, and Pyrrha turned back to the beast, intent on doing whatever damage she could with only her hands and Semblance.

The next few moments were a frantic blur of activity. The creature bucked forward with speed and agility something its size should not have possessed, practically somersaulting towards the portal and throwing Yang to the pavement as it rolled towards freedom. Jaune, in a moment of decisiveness, attempted to stop the thing with his body, only to get knocked in due to its momentum. Yang immediately charged in after the creature, the portal rapidly collapsing behind her.

' _Keep that damn thing open!'_ reverberated in her mind, and instinct kicked in. Extending her hand, she placed a time dilation glyph over the portal. "This should buy us some time!"

"We need to get in there!" Nora shouted. "Ren, Blake, and Jaune are stuck on the other side!"

"We only got back through luck and patience, we can't afford to leave them there and hope for the best," Pyrrha agreed.

"Earth's my home. My old GPS is in my coat pocket, so if we're lucky, I'll be able to give us something resembling a grid square when we land, and I can guide us to civilization, wherever that might be," Eric said. "Frosty, how long can you keep this thing open?"

"Very original!" Yang piped up from her place on the ground.

"I don't know," Weiss responded. "I can keep it open for a few minutes, but I've no idea if it will be maintained when we pass through the portal."

"Alright. We gotta go in _now._ I'll shoot Oz a message. You're in after me, got it?"

Weiss was surprised at the man's rapid and concise plan of action. Wasn't he a rabid madman when they last spoke? Still, Blake had spoken highly of him when he'd regained his wits, so… perhaps it would be best.

Ruby nodded rapidly along with Eric's statement. It was set in stone, then. Weiss was about to see this 'Earth' for herself.


	28. Chapter 28

Running.

It felt like that's all Declan had been doing for hours. Running. Trying to salvage what he could out of this damn mess of an operation — trying to save what was left of Humanity Falls. They'd barely fended off the first 'retaliation', and now this second one was threatening to rip them to pieces.

It was already succeeding. The squad was separated. Grace had assured him that Alex, Jerry, Freddie, and Emma were all alive, but he couldn't fucking see them in all the smoke. Sophie, by virtue of being next to him, was the only person he could account for.

Losses were getting bad enough without having to put his friends up on the wall. Ever since the kids left he was having to do that much more frequently. He was growing less and less sure that was a coincidence.

For now, life had put Declan in a box full of hell—a two story house with a whole lot of civilians and not a whole lot of protection. There were a couple of resistance guys inside (notable only for the fact that, much to Declan's discomfort, they were _completely identical_ outside of a few gray hairs and a bit of wear on one of them), but that appeared to be all the defense these poor people had. Just two identical men, Sophie, and Declan against whatever the fuck was still out there.

"You guys XCOM?" asked one of the twins. He had long hair, a thin beard, and a bit of grey in both, leading Declan to assume he was the elder of the two.

"Yep, that would be us," Sophie replied, chipper as ever.

"Thank the fuckin' Lord, pardon my French. I'm Frank, this here is my younger brother Evan," Frank explained, motioning to the other man, who simply nodded. Evan's hair was shorter, and he was noticeably younger in the face now that Declan got a good look at him. "We and a couple of other guys were holed up in here, but they went outside to go 'n' see what all the commotion was and help out anyone they still could. I dunno where they've gone, it's been a solid fifteen minutes."

"Well, you can rest your weary head, Frank. We're here to babysit you," Declan assured him a bit too mockingly to be kind. Frankly, Declan had precious little respect for the Resistance nowadays. Their guys were hardly sticking their necks out for the cause anymore, while his buddies were getting murdered in droves.

"I don't need babysittin', stranger, I need a pair of eyes. There's somethin' strange out there"- Frank started-"and I got a feelin' it's comin' for us," Evan finished. "Frank thinks I'm seein' shit, but I saw somethin' come out of the ground earlier. Got a guy in the back and went right back down before I could get a look at it. Fella's been sittin' there, kinda… bubblin'. Like a zit."

"... you said _what_ now?" Sophie asked, incredulous. "Where?"

"Come 'n' see, lady." Evan motioned for her to come over, and Sophie quickly obliged. Whatever she saw, it certainly unsettled her. That wasn't an easy feat, considering the poor girl had been stuck in back alleys full of drug addicts her entire life.

"That's disgusting, can we blow it up?"

"I don't wanna attract no undue attention, Miss What'syername."

"It's Sophie. Oi, Declan, come blow this thing up, I didn't bring any grenades."

Declan sighed, and grabbed his grenade off his belt. "Woman, what _did_ you bring?"

"Bluescreen rounds," she replied.

"And I haven't seen a _goddamn_ robot since we got here."

"It was an educated assumption, don't fucking judge me, Declan!"

"I judge what I please. Here, chuck it."

With that, Declan pulled the pin and tossed it straight to Sophie, who reacted with predictable terror at the prospect of a live grenade being casually tossed into her hands. Frank, meanwhile jumped back-first into a cabinet, knocking a row of plates onto the floor in his shock. She rapidly stood up and fastballed it out the window, hitting _something_ with an audible squishing sound. A few seconds later, detonation. Satisfied in a job well done, Declan sat down, his back against the wall.

"That did it, nice one!" Frank looked out of his window with a smile. A smile, Declan noticed, that was rapidly starting to shrink. "Oh, _shit._ Evan, I think I know what you were talkin' about with that thing in the ground now! It looks pissed!" The man raised his rifle to his shoulder, and opened fire. Declan stood up to head over and give support, but stopped dead in his tracks when he heard something in front of him.

It sounded like digging. Something was digging under the tile.

* * *

Dropping back onto Earth was certainly not the most pleasant feeling in the world, especially since this time around it was freshly fallen leaves and ashes that greeted Ren when he face-planted into the ground. This wasn't Arizona. Upon picking himself up, Ren recognized the small town that the Avenger had been hiding alongside, despite it being wreathed in flame and echoing with the sounds of screaming, gunfire, and… something else. Something inhuman.

"That's not good…" Blake said, pulling herself up to a knee. Ren had watched her get knocked into the portal after him. She'd not been on Earth yet, and even she understood that this was not what 'Humanity Falls' was supposed to look like. "We need to get back through"-the alien monstrosity from before leapt out of the portal behind her, and Jaune somersaulted head over heels over and in front of it and landed between Blake and Ren. Immediately, Ren turned around and raised Stormflower, opening fire on the wounded monstrosity, but doing little more than drawing its attention. The beast swung a massive fist down at him with such speed that there was no hope to avoid the blow.

Luckily, he didn't have to.

The next body to come sailing through the portal was Yang, who immediately fired Ember Celica as she landed on the beast's back, raining blows on its head. Ruby was the next , spiraling through the air in a flurry of crimson and severing the remaining tube from the monster's back, sending the last of the green ichor within spewing onto the ground, staining the grass like a glowing slime. Eric, Blake's companion, dove in next, pistol blazing, and Pyrrha followed right behind with a rapid report from Miló. Weiss, though unarmed, preceded her arrival with a canister of wind dust that exploded behind Yang and her target, sending Yang flying off and the beast stumbling. Finally, Nora dove in, screaming bloody murder as she slammed Magnhild full force into the beast's back, knocking it to the ground.

"Jump this motherfucker!" Eric shouted, reloading his pistol before going to do as he said, pouring rounds into the downed creature's legs and shredding the flesh in an attempt to immobilize it. A sound plan. With said plan in mind, Ren kipped up to his feet, before twirling through the air and burying both blades of Stormflower within the right leg of the beast and dragging both across the heel, severing sinew and sending blood spraying up Ren's sleeves and causing the monster to howl in pain. Across from him, Jaune did the same with his shield, smashing the sheer end of it into the ankle repeatedly, while Yang scampered back towards her teammates and dove straight for the beast's head, throwing hammer blows with Ember Celica. With the beast so occupied by Yang's attacks on its head, and attempting to force the blonde brawler off of its back and free itself. Yet, still, the thing wouldn't die. The brawl was a flurry of color- red, white, black, yellow, crimson, and green, so much of the green from Ren's own weapons and arms swinging as well as the greenish-yellow blood the monstrosity spilled. Color, and sound, like a hundred thick rubber bands snapping at once as sinews and tendons were severed, and of screaming both distant and near (Yang was certainly getting into her job). Slowly, the beast struggled up to its hands and knees. Its eyes were dimming, its head lolling aimlessly. It couldn't even put weight on its mangled, mauled feet, forced to crawl angrily towards a coiled-up Blake. Ren's eyes immediately went to Yang, who had let up from her punching to grab the creature by the jaw and the side of its head, cranking her arms and twisting the creature's neck. With one final scream up to the sky, Yang fired both of her gauntlets at once, and there was a sudden, violent snapping sound. With it, the creature's struggles ceased.

Ren slowly rose, stretching his back gingerly as he looked out over the flaming treeline ahead of them. Humanity Falls was burning brightly against the night sky, black silhouettes of buildings and trees dancing against orange flame. He'd never actually been in the town, but he grieved for it nonetheless. He knew all too well what it felt like to lose a home.

"We need to get back across," Weiss stated, searching the ground for Myrtenaster. "Gods only know how long my glyph will last, now."

"Not yet," Pyrrha replied, her resolve evident in the tone of her voice. "There are people in that town."

"You know this place?" Blake asked.

"We practically lived next door," Jaune explained. "We saw it every day. People who helped us get home might be fighting in there."

"Well then, we can come back once we get this portal stabilized," Weiss turned back to the portal in question. "Come on, we're-"

"Nope!" Nora cut her off, throwing Magnhild across her shoulders. "Those are our friends over there. You guys can go back if you want, but we're gonna help them out. Right?"

"I suppose so," Ren agreed.

"Absolutely," Pyrrha said, before looking to Jaune. Ren knew their leader would agree to something– the only real surprise was that he hadn't suggested it first . As much as XCOM, and Team JNPR's time with them, had been a mixed bag, there was some good in the organization, something worth protecting. Not to mention that they were right there, in need, and Team JNPR was right here. He had a feeling everyone would lose sleep if they simply turned their backs on them now. Ren knew he would.

"We're gonna help, and just hope that the portal holds up. If not, well…" Jaune shrugged, giving Team RWBY an awkward smile. "We made it back before. Might take us a while, but we made it."

"Hey, uh, guys!" Ruby piped in. "Idea! You guys can go help them, but… Weiss, your time dilation glyphs are keeping the portal open right now, right?"

"Yes, Ruby, I figure that's rather clear." Weiss folded her arms, cocking an eyebrow at the direction Ruby was taking her plan. "What of it?"

"Go on the other side again, put another one on the portal, and keep doing it. In the meantime, call Ozpin and ask what we should do. While you do that, we'll help out those people."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Yang said. "We can't just turn our back on people that need help. Doesn't feel right to me."

"Especially considering the state Earth's likely in now, they're gonna need all the help they can get," Eric said, turning to Blake. "You got my six?"

"I've got you, if you feel up for it."

"You kiddin'?" Eric asked, rolling his shoulders with a noticeable wince. "Feel like I could run a mile."

* * *

These 'Chrysalid' things, as Bradford called them, were starting to get on Fyodor's last nerve. Thank goodness for the EXO suit, at heavy armor had saved him more than once this operation, and its powered exoskeleton, plus his blade, meant that it was little trouble to remove these murder-bugs.

That being said, he no longer had a sword. What had once been an annoyance was now bordering on a life-ending threat.

The Ukranian was grappling with one of said creatures, both hands in a death grip on its massive, spike-like forelegs, his EXO suit's enhanced strength the only thing keeping him from joining the unlucky dead littering Humanity Falls, chests punctured and throats torn open by razor-sharp chitin. The Chrysalid's smaller limbs scratched and kicked at his armor, but did little to hinder him. His 'Shard Gun', as Shen designated the new magnetic shotgun design she'd issued, lay uselessly far away, next to a desk in what remained of the gas station he found himself in, while his blade was stuck in the head of another Chrysalid that was pinned to said desk.

"Little bit of help, tovaryshi!?" he shouted.

 _"What's your location, Iron Man?"_ Jerry replied, gunfire audible over the comms. He sounded, for lack of a better word, _engaged_ at the moment.

"Gas station! I have a bit of a pest problem!"

 _"Once I get this guy off my ass, I'm en route. Hang tight."_

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere, I think!"

Locks of sweat-sheened brown hair fell over his eyes as his assailant lunged, attempting to use its weight to topple Fyodor and gain the upper hand. Unfortunately, he was feeling very creative today, and the Chrysalid's aggression gave him an opportunity to exercise that creativity. Fyodor quickly released one of the arms, throwing his now-freed right arm over the creature's opposite, and, with the aid of his exoskeleton, yanking on it. The arm snapped free, sending orange sinew splattering over the floor as the creature recoiled. Grabbing the arm as one would a bat, Fyodor swung it sharp-end first at the Chrysalid, the EXO-enhanced swing catching it under the mandibles and burying the blade in its head, then lifting it off the ground, sending it tumbling to the other side of the gas station.

That was three, now, and apparently plenty more to go. Fyodor immediately went for his gun, checking to make sure it wasn't damaged. All seemed fine. Now, for the sword.

His attempt to extricate his blade was interrupted by the tile behind him cracking and splintering as yet another Chrysalid rose from the ground, chittering and hissing and sputtering blood and entrails. Evidently, this one had been injured before. Fyodor's response was swift, and the spray of tungsten shards from his weapon shredding the bug's carapace and rendered it in two with ease.

"Leave me alone, Isuse…" he muttered, reloading the weapon and preparing for the next fight. He had a feeling these things weren't done yet. "Peacekeeper, I'm clear for the moment, where are you?"

 _"Still a bit locked down. Might need a hand."_

"Where?"

 _"Command center, church by the cemetery."_

"Copy, I'm on my way."

 _"Strike team, be advised, I have a psionic signature on the field, and it's still going. It's something big,"_ Alexios barked. _"I want a head count."_

"Iron Man here, moving to the Command Center with Peacekeeper."

 _"Peacekeeper, pinned down in the Command Center with a couple of resistance guys and some civvies."_

 _"Pixie, moving to the Command Center,"_

Emma answered. _"The residences are mostly clear."_

 _"Stratosphere, I got two resistance and a bunch of civvies, and PLENTY of bugs in the damn walls. We're holdin', but only just."_

Declan sounded surprisingly calm, given the situation.

 _"Sweet T here with Strato, could use a wee bit of help! We're in the old workshop!"_

Sophie, meanwhile, sounded rightly panicked. _  
_

" _Bad news, Stratosphere, the psionic disturbance is right outside your back door. Brace yourself, I'm on my way."_

"Grizzly, I'll evac Stratosphere and the civilians out of the command center, then beat feet to meet you at the hardware shop. We'll make our stand there," Fyodor said as he grabbed his sword, yanked it free of the dead Chrysalid on the desk, and walked out of the gas station. Indeed, it was a straight shot down the dirt road in front of the station to the church, and then back the other way to the workshop. "Peacekeeper, how many hostiles at your location?"

 _"Got six confirmed. Commander, three troopers and two lancers."_

"Hold fast, I'm on the way. Can you cover the civilians?"

 _"I can try. Mercy!"_

As Jerry put his GREMLIN to work over the mic, Fyodor began to sprint towards the church, his powered armor doing wonders at picking up his pace. It was a strange sensation, to run faster than a normal man should run, lift things a normal man shouldn't lift, hit harder than a normal man should hit. It was… almost _ecstatic_ sometimes, the rush he got from kicking a car down an empty street or cleaving a Sectoid's head in half like some Mortal Kombat finishing move. But the running… for Fyodor, the running was the most fun. Feeling the cold chill of the early autumn slashing past his face. It almost made him forget he was fighting.

Leave it to ADVENT to remind him, of course. The first shot smashed into the armor plate on his shoulder, harmlessly glancing off into the woods. Lucky. Fyodor didn't want to test if he'd get lucky twice. He dove to the side, landing in a ditch just ahead of the church and rolling over the side, ending up in the church's cemetery by virtue of the insane distance the EXO suit launched him.

 _'God, I love this thing.'_

Scrambling up to his feet, Fyodor slammed back first into the wall of the church, edging his way to the corner closest to the road and peeking out, narrowly avoiding a shot to the head for his trouble.

"Peacekeeper, I appear to have their attention," he said, his tone measured.

 _"You got three. One of my resistance guys is dead, but the other can still fight. Gonna have him poke through the door and blast those guys. When you hear him shoot, take 'em down. I got the guys on my side, I think."_

"Alright then. Let's do this."

Immediately, the door to the church was kicked open, and the sound of ballistic fire erupted from within. An ADVENT screamed, and another began barking in their strange alien gibberish. Taking that as his cue, Fyodor came out of cover, raising his shard gun and firing on the first ADVENT he saw- the commander, by the look of it. The shot connected with the ADVENT's torso, sending it sprawling head over heels and grasping at its side, and immediately drawing the attention of the only one left standing, one of the two Lancers. The other lay dead by the door. Before the Lancer could even think of pulling the trigger, a burst of fire broke its helmet and sent a haze of blood spraying into the road, and toppled it.

"Come on out, you're clear!"

"Alright, let's go, let's go, let's go!" the Resistance man ordered. As he came out of the door, Fyodor got a good look at the man. Tanned skin, a lot of tattoos, apparently tribal. His peroxide blonde hair was shorn close, revealing black roots beneath, and his beard was an abyssal black. He wore a long, billowing black trench coat with little other identifying marks. Behind him, the various surviving civilians began to file out.

"Peace?" Fyodor called.

"I'm coming," the medic shouted, the sound of his stuttermag almost drowning out his voice. Sure enough, after a few seconds, the man walked out of the door, lifting his weapon with one hand and turning towards the other side of the church. The moment the first of the ADVENT soldiers rounded the corner, it was sent back with a hole in its head courtesy of Jerry.

"You're getting used to the hand," Fyodor noted.

"I make do," he replied.

"Took you long e-fucking-nough, tovarysh, let's get out of here. Popping smoke."

"Right behind you."

Fyodor pulled the pin on the smoke grenade on his belt and tossed it slightly ahead of him. By the time the smoke was beginning to spread, they were already on the other side of it. Over at the workshop he could see Chrysalids erupting out of the ground.

"We are about to have a bad time," he noted.

"Implying we haven't already," Jerry replied, scowling.

* * *

"Hey, Jaune," Nora called out. "I still have that earpiece thingy Murphy gave me! Lucky us, am I right?"

It was an impressive feat, usually, for Jaune 'two left feet' Arc to skid to a halt without tripping over himself, but this time he managed it without a hitch. Truly amazing how Nora could just _forget_ having a means to contact Earth until right now. Behind him, he could hear his companions stopping. The treeline was breaking just ahead, leading to what appeared to be a two-story brick building. A neon sign hung on the side of it, but at this distance, with so many trees in the way, Jaune couldn't read it.

"Then use it," Jaune said. "We need to know who's in there and let them know we're coming."

"You got it, boss man."

"Bad time to be asking questions, I know, buuuuut…" Yang interrupted. "Who's Murphy?"

"Friend of ours," Ren replied succinctly.

"Makes sense."

Nora was already chattering away. "-it's me, Nora! We found a big ol' alien in Vale and it jumped through- yep, it came over to our place! But then it tried to come back and we kicked. His. ASS. It was pretty cool. Yeah? We'd be glad to! We're in the trees, _literally_ right there. Yeah, that's us. Hi!" Nora hopped up and waved with both of her arms at what Jaune could only assume was whoever answered. "Okay, we're on our way!"

With that, Nora turned towards Jaune, and pointed at the building. "They're in there!"

"Well, I guess that's where we're going, then. Come on."

With that, the two teams took off again, Ren and Blake easily clearing the rest of the group and beating them to the edge of the woods. A gun pointed out of one of the windows pointed right at Ren, then immediately withdrew into the building with an audible cry of "Aw, shit!" from… Declan? It sounded like Declan.

There were dead… bug-like creatures all over the ground around the building, and a few dead people too, some with their stomachs and chest ripped open by _something._ Jaune managed to keep his lunch in, but only just, as they made their way to the door. Down the road, they could see more people coming. A man in a trench coat, a bunch of people in plain clothes, and two people in armor, one of whom he was almost certain was Jerry. They'd meet up inside, for sure.

Once everyone was inside, there was quite a bit of commotion. Declan had practically thrown himself at Jaune the moment he cleared the door, crooking his arm around his neck and pulling him into a side-hug, and raising his weapon to the ceiling. The man's beard had grown thicker, he'd put on quite a few pounds, and he wore a plain white stetson hat that looked more at home in Vacuo than in the woods here on Earth.

"I told you, motherfucker! I told you he'd be back! Give me my fucking money! Tell Philly and Adam to give me my fucking MONEY!" the man shouted, grinning ear to ear.

"It's been so long, we didn't think we'd ever see you lot again!" Sophie piped in from her seat in the corner. Her hair was tied up in a short ponytail now, but otherwise, she looked about the same as usual. "God, you picked the worst time, but we could use the help."

"You'll get your money, fonázon, quiet down," Alexios stated. The man looked trimmed down from the last time Jaune had seen him. His hair was cut short, and his grey and black beard was now hardly a stubble. He looked thinner, too. More muscular. "Good to see you again, agápes mou." His eyes narrowed as he looked over Jaune's shoulder at the rest of RWBY(E) and JNPR entering. "I don't remember there being eight of you… pardon, nine."

"Friends of ours," Jaune explained, "They were nearby when the alien attacked. And Eric… long story."

"I'll bore you with the details later," Eric said, before stepping through the throng of RWBYJNPR and in front of Jaune. "Who's in command of this little ragtag band of misfits?"

"I am," Alexios replied.

"You got Chrysalids all over your fucking lawn and you picked the bottom floor of a three-tiered building to defend. Fucking idiot. Get everyone upstairs, _now._ "

"Very polite, Mr. Eric, I appreciate your candor, but who the fuck are you?" Alexios asked, cocking an eyebrow. If Eric's tone made him feel any sort of way, he didn't show it.

"Ex- US Military, Delta Force, I fought these things before you even thought about picking up a gun. You wanna work with me, or you wanna die?" Eric asked. "And can I get a fucking gun?"

"Don't got a spare one for you, friend," Alexios replied, before turning to the civilians. "Everyone, upstairs, now. Things One and Two, go with them, if anything that isn't one of us comes up there, you shoot that fucker in the mouth, do you understand?"

"You got it, funny man," one of the 'Things' replied, a man with a wide-brimmed ten gallon hat. He slapped his companion, a man who looked just like him, but younger, on the shoulder, and the two of them herded the non-combatants up the stairs.

Alexios then turned back to Jaune. "Clear the door, Jerry and Fyodor are on the way. They'll be happy to see you."

Sure enough, not long after everyone had gotten out of the doorway, Jerry and Fyodor barrelled through, motioning for those behind to follow them. A man in a large, billowing trenchcoat led them up the stairs as well, at Alexios' silent direction, leaving them only with their old XCOM friends, the last of whom, Emma if Jaune recalled correctly, practically dove through the doorway and landed on the concrete floor with a cry of 'merde'.

"Now what did you do that silly shit for?" Alexios asked her, nonchalant.

"They're right fucking behind me, shut the door!" the diminutive woman replied. Yang immediately complied, reaching over and slamming the metal door. There was no response, however, leading to a very, very confused Alexios, and an even more amused Declan.

"Now that we have a second to breathe…" Alexios began, looking over RWBYJNPR in full. "Alexios Nikos, at your service. No relation to your friend. I'd ask for introductions, but I doubt we have time to hear all of your life stories. The situation's as follows- we got fucked up. ADVENT figured out where we've been hiding and sent people to wreck our faces. _Again._ I told Grace to move, but she's been acting like a madwoman lately, said she 'knew' we had to stay here. Lucky we did, if only for your sakes. That being said, let's make this count and get out of here, and catch up on the Avenger. You five, new people, what are your names? Starting with the little one."

"Ruby Rose!" Ruby piped up. "This is my team: Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, and Yang Xiao Long. The other guy is-"

"Eric Frost, formerly Delta Force Green Element. Ended up on their planet when I tried to play strong safety with a Muton, been stuck there for the past 2 Remnant years. What year is it right now?" Eric asked.

"2035. September 21st, to be exact," Alexios replied.

"Jesus fucking wept, I've been gone for nineteen years," Eric muttered.

"Time seems really weird between here and Remnant," Jaune noted. "We were only gone for two days our time… how long were we gone for you?"

"A good while. You left on April 4th, so…" Alexios trailed off, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

"Five months and change," Jerry finished for him. "We got fucked up in the meantime. Bad. We've lost guys left and right. Out of the people you know, Jack, Konstatin, Cedric, Wesley, Bridget, and Cody are all dead, and Murphy's still missing. We're barely hanging on. Maybe, now that you're here, things are gonna brighten up."

"Here's hoping," Declan agreed. "Now, we need to get ready for the next go round. Did you get word from Command, Lex?"

"She said the AO is mostly cleared. ADVENT looks like they're packing their bags and going home for some reason, but no idea if the Chrysalids stuck around. All the civilians left alive are in this building, and we've got an evac coming in. Let's just collect ourselves and get ready to go home. I know the Commander will want to talk to all of you, and if you really know Lawrence, Mr. Eric, I think he'll want to see you, too. And if anything comes up to this building?"

Alexios cocked the bolt back on his crossbow.

"Tell them we're fucking closed."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! It me, It me, it's the author of this story comin' in from outta nowhere to tell you to gimme feedback. Comments. Reviews. Tell me how much you hate my work and me as an extension. Hearing people's opinions and criticisms of my work brings me joy.**


	29. Chapter 29

The trip back to XCOM's 'Avenger' was very, very cramped.

Yang didn't enjoy being folded up like an accordion, but today seemed to hold zero regard for her feelings, as the blonde was smashed in between Team RWBY, Team JNPR, all six of these 'XCOM' people, and the three weirdos that had joined them.

"You know, I just thought of somethin', chief," Declan spoke up, practically smashed between Pyrrha and Jaune like canned sardines.

"Yes?" Alexios asked, exasperated.

"We coulda walked."

"Yes, we could have, and with the benefit of hindsight, we probably should have, but here we are."

"I'm impressed you fucking clowns managed to fit 17 people on my ship," the pilot of this 'Skyranger', as Alexios named it, noted. "We're a regular circus act."

"It helps that your ugly, crusty, hillbilly ass let one of us sit in the front seat," Alexios replied, his voice laced with venom. It was obvious he didn't really like this pilot very much.

"I will turn this thing around right now, Lex, and the moment we touch down I am gonna beat your ass and throw you into the fucking lake!"

"And I'll turn it around again, there's two sets of controls," Jerry stated, matter-of-fact. "Plus, you can't even reach the guy's shoulders."

"But I can reach you, shithead."

"I have a metal fist."

"Fuck, I keep forgetting that shit. Tell me, that girlfriend of yours enjoy getting fisted by your rusty-ass, janky clunker fi-"

"I'm right here, you git" Sophie shouted, practically deafening Ruby, who curled up even further than the tight space on the aircraft already had forced her to.

"I will kill a man for some silence," Fyodor said, the only one not having raised his voice thus far.

"Indeed," Ren agreed.

"Skip me, if you would, I'd like to think that I've been the picture of cherubic, silent innocence," one of the new guys—Frank, if Yang recalled correctly—said. The only thing that really distinguished him in her mind was his cowboy hat. It was a nice hat, for sure. _'Wonder if he's got an extra, I could make a pretty good joke with that. Bee-hawwwwwww.'_

Of all the times to think about a pun, her brain picked this one?

"So…" Pyrrha started, surprisingly casual given the fact that she was scrunched shoulder to shoulder between Alexios and Blake. "How are things? Besides the obvious."

"Oh, wonderful," Alexios replied, slightly less vicious than he was to the pilot (and only _just_ ). "Besides dying in droves to our alien oppressors, my daughter just had her 16th birthday, Corporal Briggs' twins were born, and I finally learned how to make baklava. Also, did I mention we're _fucking dying_. What about you?"

Pyrrha had no response to that other than to scoot a bit closer to Blake, who attempted to make room for the champion. There wasn't much.

"Sorry. Tough times all around," Alexios added, his voice much softer. "We still haven't found Murphy."

"He's okay! He's a pretty tough guy, so I'm sure he's out there somewhere," Nora piped up, as enthusiastic as ever.

"I admire your optimism, little one, but I wouldn't hold out too much hope," Fyodor said. "If he were still alive five months later, I'd assume he'd contact us somehow."

"Maybe he can't? Is he in one of those prisons?"

"A guy like him? Big name in XCOM?" Jerry said, leaning back from the co-pilots' chair. "They'd have his face all over the news. There's not been a peep about him since you guys left, which means either he's dead, or worse."

"Bankin' on 'worse', myself," Declan said.

"Bunch of downers, all of you." Sophie shook her head. "Don't give up on him yet, eh? Right?"

"Stop putting up a front, princess," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "You're just as lost as the rest of us."

"Tovaryshi, please," Fyodor went to stand up, only to realize there was no room for him to do so. As such, he settled for leaning around Trenchcoat Guy to look at the rest of the people aboard. "Can we save the fighting until we get back to the Avenger? Our friends have returned, and they brought help! Surely this is cause for celebration?"

"No friends of mine, écume extraterrestre," Emma grumbled. "Should've taken your ball and stayed home, or stuck around."

Jaune went to say something, but Emma cut him off just as quickly. "Don't you fucking start, vomit boy, you'll end up losing your lunch."

"Emma, shut your mouth before I shut it for you," Jerry called back. "I get out of this chair, Phil's gonna have to carry you out of this Skyranger in pieces."

"If you can even get back here, skinny midget."

"You're shorter than me."

"Did I not just ask you to **FUCKING SHUT UP**!?" Fyodor suddenly shouted, forcing himself out of his seat and knocking Trenchcoat Guy into Weiss. Considering that the man was just north of six-foot-three and had just jumped up and screamed loud enough to ring everyone's ears, he got the silence he wanted.

"Zarady chorta, even when we've had multiple near death experiences, a full day's worth of running and gunning, the closest thing our planet has to superhumans besides Invincible coming back, and their friends coming along with them, all you do is bitch!," he continued. "Can we not, for at least a few minutes, pretend that we are happy to see our friends?"

"I told you, Freddy, they aren't-" Emma started, only to be cut off once more.

"Did I not say shut up?" Fyodor asked. "Do you need me to say it in one of the ten other fucking languages you speak, you ignoramus?"

"Fyodor?" Jaune spoke up weakly. Poor guy probably thought he was next in line to get screamed at. However, he would have been wrong. Fyodor's face visibly softened, and the big man sat back down, crossing one of his legs and allowing an incensed Trenchcoat Guy to stand back up and get his knee out of an equally incensed Weiss' face.

"Yes, Jaune?" he replied, with an eerily calm smile.

"Why are you all so… angry? What happened while we were gone?"

Alexios sighed, and turned to look at the leader of Team JNPR. Yang found it strange that despite this 'Earth' being mostly separate from Remnant, he had the same last name as Pyrrha. That had to be trippy for her. Still, apart from the obvious stuff, he looked like he could have been a relative. Same 'cut from marble' physique, and green eyes, too. Unlike Pyrrha's bright, doe-like eyes, though, Alexios' were narrow, dark, and criss-crossed with red. Being as close as he was to her, Yang could distinctly pick up the scent of bourbon on him, one she knew well from many late evenings around her uncle.

"It's been bad," he said. "We're at an all-time low in recruitment and manpower. We've lost multiple men since you last were around, whole fireteams, even. Tensions are running high, and we can't seem to win a fight when it matters."

"Maybe now that you're here, that'll change?" Sophie said, her optimistic tone cracking just slightly. "You guys did a crackerjack job of it last time around."

"I got a bit more faith than I did when I woke up this mornin', myself," Declan agreed. "Just… don't be surprised if people aren't too welcomin' of you when you come back in."

Yang shrugged her shoulders. She'd dealt with cold receptions plenty in her life, especially if they involved Junior's little hole-in-the-wall. These guys weren't going to be a problem. "Well," she said, "if they've got a problem with JNPR, they can take it up with all of us. We're here to help, whether they like it or not."

"That's what friends are for!" Ruby contributed. "Besides, you guys aren't that bad, from what JNPR told us back home. I think we'll get along okay."

"Oh, angel baby, you're about to get a rude fucking awakening," Jerry said, obviously amused. Yang had half a mind to wipe the smug look she was sure he had off his face. JNPR really left out a lot of the details when it came to the shitheads they were stuck with.

* * *

Fyodor wagered that he was one of the few people in XCOM now who would genuinely be happy to see Team JNPR again. A shame, too, for they were such nice young folks. Even without the obvious superpowers, they would have been the sort of people XCOM needed in their ranks. Young, hungry, ambitious. They'd even brought backup this time– if just four of them had been potent, eight would be absolutely game-changing.

Yet, he still couldn't shake the feeling that their reception would be chilly.

Landing went smoothly, considering the cramped hold of the Skyranger. Fyodor was one of the first to exit, and thus, he saw Phillipe and Roderick already waiting for them. The former'd even shaved his beard, like this was some sort of formal occasion.

"One chance to tell me you're shitting me, Freddy. One," Roderick said, grinning ear to ear. He knew good and well who was on that aircraft.

"I'm not shitting you."

Roderick let out a barely-constrained " _Yessssss_ " and pumped his fist, while Phil simply nodded along, smirking. Fyodor cocked a brow at the Frenchman. Phil returned the gesture.

"Nothing to say, Citadel?" Fyodor asked.

"Nah," came the reply. "Just happy they're here."

"I would never have guessed it from you, my friend."

"Well, we need every advantage we can get, now. I'll take them over a bullet to the head anyday."

"Amen."

Fyodor turned around just as Eric exited the ship, limping ahead of JNPR. Roderick gave a confused 'huh' behind him.

"Civvie?" he asked.

"No," Fyodor replied. "He knows Lawrence, apparently. He says he was stuck on Remnant with the kids up until now."

"I find it hard to believe," Phil stated.

"One of them corroborated his story."

"Well, shit, then."

Team JNPR exited next, drawing an excited whoop from Roderick. "There's my girl! Hey, Big Red!"

Pyrrha immediately perked up, giving a reserved, but polite smile to the now one-eyed man. "Hello again, Roderick. You look well."

As the two of them began talking, with Roderick making his way over to JNPR and playfully slapping Jaune on the back of the head, Phil's gaze moved beyond them to Team RWBY.

"Who the fuck are they?" he asked.

"Team RWBY," Fyodor explained. "Friends of Team JNPR. The small red one is Ruby Rose, the one with the white hair is Weiss Schnee, the one with the bow is Blake Belladonna, and the one with the blonde hair is Yang Xiao Long. They followed JNPR across to help us."

"How nice of them. Perhaps I'll bake them a quiche." Phil's voice was practically dripping with sarcasm. "That Ruby one looks like she's twelve."

"Between you and me… I think she might be."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Fyodor offered Team RWBY a smile and a wave as they passed by, leaving the civilian hangers-on and the rest of the fireteam to exit the Skyranger.

"We should probably follow them and make sure they don't run into any trouble, oui?" Phil asked. "I know Adam's back on board."

"Oh, ebat' mene, where? Where is he?" Fyodor asked. Adam's mental state seemed to be on the fast track to rock bottom with every new casualty or botched op. Considering the state he'd been in when JNPR was confirmed to be gone…

"I don't know. Last I saw him, he was with Remi," Phil said. "Remi was headed to the firing range. Perhaps they won't hear the cheering… or the fighting."

"Do you really think that reception will be that bad?"

"Oui. Adam isn't the only one angry that they left with the job unfinished. Wolf Mother's entire team except for Keenan is dead. Cody's dead. Strong is dead, and his sister's a wreck, and you know how the crew feels about her."

"Sweet girl, yes, but it's not the children's fault what happened to her brother," Fyodor protested. "How were they supposed to know?"

"I'm not asking you to defend them to me, Fyodor, but you may have to defend them from the ship."

Fyodor sighed. _'Nothing is ever easy.'_ "Da, tovarysh. I have no plans on letting anyone start a fuss. Not now. This is what we needed, whether they admit it or not."

"I agree, though I doubt for the same reason as you," Phil replied, giving Fyodor his best attempt at a calming hand on the back. "Restes fort, Iron Man. Someone has to."

* * *

"So your weapons don't fire Dust?" Ruby asked, in what was the latest of a nonstop barrage of questions directed at her XCOM escorts. To his credit, Roderick was always the one to respond, acting more like a tour guide than a soldier. Pyrrha would have to thank him when they caught up later. She felt horrid seeing what had happened to his eye, but unlike Jerry, he seemed to take his injury in stride. He'd been so excited to see JNPR back again, as well. _'Once y'all get settled back in, I'm getting blasted as FUCK,'_ he said, _'and all of you are joining me. On my account, mind you._ '

"Nope," Roderick replied, chipper as ever. "See, little lady, this here is a railgun. There's a magnetic array built into the barrel assembly that superheats and propels a tungsten cartridge at up to three kilometers a second."

"Holy _cheese_ that's far!" Ruby stated, awed, before suddenly looking a bit confused. "I… think?"

"It's pretty damn far. Let me put it in terms you can understand… Philly, how tall are you?"

"About two meters," Phil replied.

"So, little lady, there's 1000 meters in a kilometer. That's 500 of him, so 3 kilos would be 3000, or 1500 of him. Now imagine somethin' traveling past 1500 of him, layin' down, in a second."

" _Woooooooooooooooooooooah_ " Ruby once again was struck at the measurement. "Can I try one out? Pretty please?"

"Y'know what?" Roderick smiled down at her, and offered her an outstretched fist. "Think I might sneak you into the firing range later. Keep it between us."

Ruby immediately punched the proffered hand with barely-restrained glee.

The interior hangar for the Skyranger was, as usual, not very busy. The only person there at the moment was Joseph, who was minding a computer when the doors had opened, and had turned to see the arrivals himself. When his eyes met Pyrrha's, he was beaming. His hair was much longer, and his beard was thicker- he reminded Pyrrha a bit of what she'd been told of her grandfather. A kindly, grey-haired man with glasses. The only difference being was that her grandfather was a mechanic, and Joseph was a man with a chaingun.

"Good to see ye, lads and lasses! Yer a sight for ma sore eyes, I tell ye!" he shouted over. "God almighty, it's been a bloody spell!"

"Good to see you too, Joseph," Ren offered.

"Hope ye didn' give the mister much trouble? He's been a bit out of sorts lately."

"I'm fine, you bastard, shut up!" Alexios called from the back.

"Oh, ye know I do it out a love for ya." Joseph retorted, still grinning ear to ear as he turned to look at Roderick. "Bradford and the Commander want tae meet up with the tykes in the control room, so I'd head thereabouts first."

"Got it," Roderick replied. "Take care, Pointdexter."

"Mind yersel', friend. Things are a bit tense. News came ahead of ye. Already know that Remi's waitin' for ye."

That was certainly the last thing Pyrrha needed to hear. She distinctly recalled Remi being a bit of an ass, though not as much as someone else on the ship. She idly wondered if Adam had died, and people had just neglected to tell her. Far be it from her to wish death on anyone, but if that was the only way to get him away from the ship…

"I'll take care of the Captain, Joseph," Phil said, cutting off Pyrrha's train of thought. "He won't start trouble."

"Oh, it's not just him I'm worried about, laddie!"

With that, Roderick motioned for the kids to follow him, and they were off again through the halls. There were a few people here and there, mostly unfamiliar faces who gave them an odd look before returning to whatever they were doing, but for the most part, the path ahead was empty. Still, it was entirely possible someone would obstruct them in the control room.

"This ship's got no room to fuckin' breathe," Eric noted.

"We came out of one tuna can, and walked into a slightly bigger tuna can," Yang agreed. "At least I can move my arms in here."

"This tuna can is your house until you decide to cut and run on us, or we've won the war," Phil said, "so I suggest you learn to love it. Try living in it when you're my size, I stand on my tip-toes and my head hits the ceiling."

The stairwell was just ahead of them now. She'd never been to the control room before, so Pyrrha wasn't sure which way they'd be going, but judging by the barely-muffled sound of conversation from above, she had a feeling it would be up.

"Oh, boy…" Fyodor muttered. "Phil…"

"I'm ready if you are, Iron Man." Phil replied, rolling his neck in anticipation.

"We're gonna be fine," Roderick assured them, before turning back to Pyrrha. "Big Red, you're at liberty to beat a motherfucker's ass if they lay hands on you."

Pyrrha took stock of what those words meant. She doubted many could ever 'lay hands' on her in the first place unless she wanted them to. But what about if they knew not to target her? What or who would they go after, if they couldn't hurt Pyrrha?

Jaune.

If someone were to go after Jaune... Pyrrha could feel her blood rising at just the idea. That made her want to ' _beat a Motherfucker_ '. And as that idea crossed her mind, she noticed an almost immediate catharsis...

"Motherfucker," Pyrrha muttered.

"What was that, Pyrrha?" Weiss asked.

"Nothing."

"Clear the fucking stairs!" Roderick called up, and immediately, Pyrrha heard shuffling feet above them. The clamor died down almost to dead silence, and Roderick motioned for them to step back.

"Hey, guys, you come up first," Roderick said, motioning to the rest of the XCOM team. Once they went up, he then motioned for JNPR and RWBY(E). Jaune was the first one to head up the stairs, with Pyrrha stuck to him like glue. If they wanted to try anything, they'd have to get through her.

As she cleared the threshold from the stairwell to the control room, the first thing she noticed was **_blue_**. A massive blue holographic globe, not much different from the displays they used in Sanctum, loomed over the room, towering above the gantries and computers surrounding it, bathing the entire room in its glow.

Including a very amused Remi, among the congregation of soldiers strewn about the room. He looked much different than when Pyrrha'd last seen him, his long, unkempt hair now cut high and tight, his face shaven, and his multiple piercings far from view.

"Well, we really did catch the circus coming back into town. Tell me, did you enjoy your little vacation?" he asked.

"Shoulda fuckin' stayed home!" Kyle called out from over his shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up, Christ, Keenan," Remi scolded the man, before returning his focus to JNPR. "So, what brought you back? Did you feel bad for leaving us to die?"

"Captain," Phil started, his tone even. "Let's not start any foolishness here, oui? They came back to help."

"Well if they wanted to help, they shouldn't have left. You know good and damn well how many men we lost."

"They went and got help," Jerry said, stepping out from the crowd of XCOM that had formed around JNPR and the stairwell. "When's the last time you did anything of note to help out around here, pencil dick?"

"Ooh, big, bad Jerry using big boy words now that he's got a robot hand, how impressive," one of the men next to Remi said, faking adulation. "I'm pissing my boots, Captain!"

"So am I, Scott, so am I. I'm _paralyzed_." Remi's gaze immediately went to Pyrrha. "Somehow, you didn't get shot. I'm impressed."

"I've been lucky," Pyrrha stated conservatively, doing her best not to crack. She had always been told that if your opponent knocks you off balance, you've already lost, be that physically or emotionally. She didn't exactly plan on losing.

"You know, you could stand to show a bit of fucking respect," Yang added, stepping out from her team and standing next to Pyrrha. "None of us had to come here, but we did, because they asked us to."

"Oh, yes, my queen, I do apologize for my uncouthness. We should kiss the ground you walk on for gracing us with your presence," Remi said, rolling his eyes before turning to one of the XCOM men by the stairs. "Sergeant Cole, what the fuck are you doing on that side of the room?"

"I didn't know standing on one side or the other meant I was picking a fucking side, Cap," the man replied. Pyrrha looked over at him- he was younger than Remi, but not by much, with long, slick black hair that went down almost to his lower back, and flames tattooed on his right forearm down to his wrist. "But if it is, I gotta say, your sales pitch sucks."

"Guys, calm the fuck down for about ten seconds, would ya?" Declan grumbled. "Jesus fuck, y'all are just lookin' for a fight at this point."

"I'm not looking for anything. Can't speak for a certain someone." Remi tugged at his collar with a self-assured smirk.

"Look, where the hell are Bradford and the Commander?" Sophie asked. "Would be kind of nice for you to fuck off."

"They're on their way. If you're so insistent, Miss Hall, I'll just leave you be. Come on, we're out of here." With that, Remi motioned to the men and women with him, and they followed him out of the room, save for two, who watched the others leave with thinly-veiled disdain.

"So… that was fun," one of them said, with a similar inflection to Murphy.

"Yeah. Like pulling teeth," the other agreed in a high, nasal tone. Considering how rugged and sinewy the man looked, it didn't fit him at all. He turned to look at JNPR and company, and gave them a wave. "Sorry about that. Things have been pretty shitty here."

"I think we picked up on that," Blake said.

"Lindsay Briggs," the man said, before pointing at his companion. "Howland Grimshaw"

"Mornin'," Howland offered. "Heard about the lot of ya."

"Good things, I hope." Jaune punctuated his statement with an awkward chuckle.

"Eh, mostly," Howland replied. "You mind if we stick around?"

After a moment of silence, Jaune shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why you can't."

"Think I'll be doing the same, if you don't mind," Sgt. Cole said. "I've been wanting to meet the guys who helped us out, even if I wasn't here for it."

Pyrrha let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding in. Things were definitely tense, to say the least. She at least hoped that Grace might be able to soothe tempers a bit. As much as it irked her, Pyrrha could understand the anger. It wasn't her choice to leave. For people they'd only known for a week or two, she'd grown rather fond of some of the members of XCOM.

* * *

Grace's nerves were at their breaking point. Bradford knew that much– knowing Grace for going on twenty years clued him in on all her tells, all her tics, and all her idiosyncrasies. Even if he didn't have all that, though, he'd still be able to tell. Her hair was straggly and untidy, her eyes were barely open, and her breathing was unsteady.

She'd told him about the voice in her head. He wasn't sure what to think about it. Were he not under his word not to tell a soul, he'd have likely asked Tygan or Lily for advice. Moira wasn't a psychiatrist, but dammit, even she'd be better at this than he was. For all he knew, the casualties, the tide of the war, all of it was causing Grace to finally snap. She had stayed calm until the bitter end back during the last war, but now… now it was obvious she couldn't keep this up. Not for much longer.

She'd actually jumped out of her chair when she heard the news, the breath leaving her in an instant. She'd gone and threw up in the trash bin next to her desk, then just grabbed Bradford like a port in a storm. They stayed there for a while, with him awkwardly holding the woman who'd been—' _still is_ ' he reminded himself— his commanding officer.

"I think we can do this," she finally said, pushing herself off of him. "This… this is what we need."

"It just might be," he agreed. "They're waiting on us."

"Right… right. Let's go."

Bradford stepped out of her way and let her lead as she opened the door to her office, revealing Ezekiel Collins on the other side, the slightest facade of a smile on his lips.

"I do believe the kids will be right excited to see a friendly face, ma'am," he said.

"How was their reception? I was… busy. Didn't have eyes on?" Grace asked.

"Somewhat rocky. Remi wanted to start trouble, but most of the men thus far have been welcoming enough. Emma doesn't seem none too pleased to have them around, but she ain't pleased by much of anything anymore. Roderick was practically running out the door to meet 'em, and Lawrence would be too, if he wasn't on doctor's orders." Zeke shrugged his shoulders, looking down the hallway with his pinkish-violet eyes. Bradford never got used to looking at them, even after all the time he'd known the man. They used to be brown. "Oddly enough, there's supposedly a Delta Force fella with JNPR this time. Goes by the name of Eric Frost. I remember the name myself, from the Raven Rock operation, same one we first met Lawrence on."

"That so? That must mean that the connection to Remnant is two way. Tygan's gonna want to hear about this." Grace's mood was quickly lifting, like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Still, Bradford was going to have her run by Tygan for a quick check-up anyways. Operating at her levels of stress couldn't be good for a woman her age, even if the stasis slowed things down. "Do we have enough room to bunk eight?"

"After all the losses we've taken, there's plenty of room," Zeke replied, matter-of-fact. "I can prolly get 'em situated without none too many problems. If people get too far out of line, we've got plenty that'll set 'em right, it seems."

"Right, right… where's Adam?" Grace's expression suddenly darkened. "Zeke, where's Adam?"

"Haven't the foggiest, ma'am. Last I saw, he was with Remi at the shooting range, but Remi came up to meet the kids."

Grace sighed, pushing her palms into her eyes before taking another deep, shaky breath. "He's losing it. Tygan said that his gene mods aren't going to hold up much longer, and that the longer it goes on, the more pain he's going to be in… have we synthesized any Overdrive Serum yet?"

"Lily said it'll be a few more days. You think giving Adam alien drugs is going to solve his problems?" Zeke cocked an eyebrow, and judging by his tone, he didn't believe it would do any good.

"Tygan believes the alien DNA will at the very least slow the process. He already has Meld in his veins, so there's no worries about tissue rejection or anything like that. It may keep him alive until we find a more permanent solution."

"I'll see if Shen can't try to speed things up, I might get Dr. Kiriyama to help her out, the Proving Ground can wait another couple of days," Bradford offered.

"Alright, do it," Grace agreed. "It'll only take the two of them a couple of days anyway. We're wasting time, let's go."

"Right on." Zeke made a show of bowing and stepping out of the doorway. "After you, Commander."

The hallways that led to the command center were always quiet. No one was ever there except for Bradford and Grace most of the time; Tygan and Lily only came when they were bunking down for the night, and rarely, if ever, did one of the soldiers come up since Grace's condition became obvious. This time was no different, the only sound in the hall being their footsteps.

Once they made it to the doors, Grace stopped, her breathing slowly steadying. Zeke watched her with a mild interest, while Bradford reached out to grab her shoulder..

"God, I look like shit, don't I?" she asked.

"Indubitably," Zeke replied, openly smiling now.

"You're fine, Grace. Let's get them up to speed."

Zeke went for the more theatrical mode of opening the doors, flicking his arms like a maestro before his orchestra and sending them sliding open, drawing the attention of the troops remaining in the room, as well as Team JNPR and their new friends.

"Commander on deck!" Briggs barked.

"Bugger all, Lindsay, we're not in the fuckin' army, relax," Grimshaw grumbled. "Good to see you, mum."

"Grace-er, Commander Grace. Good to see you," Jaune said with a smile of his own.

"Likewise, Mr. Arc," she replied. "I see you brought company." Turning to the five new arrivals, she continued. "I'm Commander Grace Cheng. I'm in charge of what's left of XCOM. You are?"

"Team RWBY," A small, pale-skinned girl with black-and-red hair replied, rising to the balls of her feet and giving a salute. "JNPR told us all about you guys. We're here to help."

"Lieutenant Eric Frost, Delta Force Green Element, ma'am," the man behind them answered. He was military, for sure: clean-cut, well-built, and with an aura of hardness you rarely saw outside of the special forces. He looked like he'd been through the ringer, though, with an obviously broken nose and a bruised face. "Met with your organization back at Raven Rock in 2016. I was part of Captain Hamilton's fireteam."

"Lawrence is a valued part of our operation here, Lieutenant, and I'm sure he'll be happy to hear from a friend… but you look a bit young to say you were running with special forces back then," Grace noted.

"That's the thing. Time on Remnant apparently runs on a different scale than it does here. Days are still twenty-four hours, and the seasons run about the same, but I got knocked into a portal fighting a muton back in 2016. I was on Remnant for two years, but here, it's been almost 20," Eric explained. "Things are a bit fucked, to say the least."

"I can tell. Still, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. I'm glad you're back, JNPR, and I'll be glad for any assistance you can render, but things have been… bad… on our end." Grace turned to look at the Hologlobe, concentrating on the dancing blue lights that mapped the world. "You've been gone for about 5 months. In that time, a lot of the people you know have been killed in action or have gone missing, and we've suffered operational disasters on every front. Though we've managed to hold our ground, the Chosen Assassin has managed to stymie our efforts at recruitment, cut off our lines of supply, and seeded infiltrators within the Resistance. It's only a matter of time until she tracks us down, and I'm afraid I know why that is. Ezekiel, you mind sharing what you learned in Siberia?"

"Not at all, ma'am," Zeke replied. "Pleasure to see you again, friends, I only wish it were under better circumstances. Anyhow, I have some good news, and some bad news. Let's begin with the good. We've just managed to uncover a juicy piece of intel, that has put us on the trail of finding the Chosen's hideout. Within weeks, ideally, we'll be ready to strike her down. Here's the bad news… she's got a prisoner. We believe she may be interrogating him in order to probe our defenses and prepare for an assault on the Skyranger. I believe you can connect the dots on your own."

There was a moment of silence. Alexios flinched like someone had swung at him, and Jerry's metal hand frantically curled and uncurled, visibly tearing into the woolen glove that concealed it. Nora's reaction, however, was the most visible. Something about her had struck Bradford when he first saw her as unintelligent. It was obvious he'd been wrong, because she was the first to realize what Zeke meant.

"Where?" she asked. "Where is she hiding?"

"Somewhere in the continental United States, but that's all we know at the moment. We got another lead on a data center that handles communications sent to the facility, and we're gettin' ready to hit it within the next week. If y'all want in, we got the gear and the firepower."

"There's one problem, though," Bradford spoke up. "We don't have a means of opening a portal back to Remnant yet. You're still stuck here until one of Vahlen's test subjects comes back, and considering that you killed one, and we killed the other, it's potentially gonna be a long wait."

"We're not leaving until the job's done," Ren said.

"We're here to help you win. After that, we'll figure out the rest." Jaune met Bradford's eye with a determination he hadn't yet seen in the kid. He'd been nervous, almost scared when he last showed up. He could tell that Jaune still wasn't one-hundred percent ready for what Earth and ADVENT were going to throw at him… but he was obviously going to give it his best. Bradford certainly couldn't knock the spirit.

"I think that's about as good an answer as any, Commander," Bradford said, a smile tugging at his lips beside himself. _'Maybe we have a fighting chance after all.'_

Grace breathed again, unsteady at first, but slowly evening out. Her eyes moved from the Hologlobe back to JNPR, RWBY, and the others. Most of the men on that side of the room were smiling. Hell, even Jerry, despite the funk losing his hand and most of his skill with a gun had put him in, seemed a bit more like his old self as he gave Jaune an affectionate punch to the shoulder.

"In that case," she said, relaxing for what seemed to be the first time in months, if only for the briefest of moments. "Welcome back to XCOM. Let's put you back to work."


	30. Chapter 30

Ezekiel was kind enough to point Team RWBY and JNPR to their new abode. As everyone settled in, Weiss immediately began asking questions. She had no idea where they were, what was expected of them, and who was on their side, and she needed to have those answers before she could be expected to fight alongside this 'XCOM'.

"Jaune," she said, her voice firm. "We need to talk about what's going on here. You've been here before, but we have not. Can you get us caught up?"

"Yeah, I think that'd be wise considering apparently a good handful of people on this thing seem to want your ass," Yang agreed. "I'm more than happy to punch a d-bag out on your behalf, but I need to know who and why."

"Okay, okay… I'll try to explain," Jaune turned to Weiss as he sat down on the bunk bed closest to the door. "What do you want to know first?"

"First of all, whom on this ship can we trust?" Weiss asked. " We don't know anyone on board this vessel."

"To be fair, we didn't know them for that long ourselves," Ren said, frowning. "Still…"

"We can trust Jerry, I believe," Pyrrha stated, though she sounded uncertain. "I don't know. He's… different now."

"Well, we can't go off of uncertainty," Blake said. "Eric said that he knew a man named Lawrence, who it sounds like is on this airship. Did any of you meet him?"

"I believe we all did," Ren answered. "He's an older man, somewhat respected by the others. I think he's trustworthy."

"If Ren can trust him, then I suppose we all can," Jaune said. "There's Roderick, too. He seemed happy to see you, Pyrrha."

"He's… a bit much, sometimes. But he's very friendly," Pyrrha said.

"Yeah! He's been super nice," Ruby agreed. "I mean, I think so."

"He's been more than tolerant of your… eccentricities, Ruby." Weiss nodded. "That's two. What about that man who accompanied us, Ezekiel, I believe his name was?"

"Absolutely not." Pyrrha's response was immediate and authoritative. Blake startled slightly, and Ruby quite literally jumped out of her seat for a moment.

"Right, right…" Weiss made a mental note to ask Jaune about what had happened involving the man that made Pyrrha's response so emphatic, but that could wait. "Is there anyone else?"

"I think that Fyodor guy seems okay," Yang said, shrugging her shoulders. "Did you guys know him?"

"Not that well," Jaune admitted. "He sparred with Pyrrha once."

"Those fellows that stayed behind after our less-than-pleasant reception seemed plenty open to us," Weiss said. "Perhaps they might be trustworthy?"

"Maybe," Ren said. "On a less pleasant note… there's a man named Adam on board the ship. He has a particular vendetta against Jaune. I don't know the details behind it, but it would be best to give him a wide berth."

"Something's wrong with that guy," Jaune agreed. "Can we move on to a more pleasant subject, please?"

Blake nodded to Jaune, offering him a sympathetic look before continuing. "In the meantime, there's something else… Weiss, did you manage to get in touch with Ozpin?"

"I did, yes," Weiss replied, her tone measured.

"Wellllll?" Ruby asked. "What did he say? Is there a way we can go back and forth? Is he sending us help? What is it?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"You're not at liberty to- my _ass_!" Yang protested, throwing her hands up. "What's Ozpin gonna do, hear you tattling on him from another planet? What is it?"

"I told you, I'm not at liberty to say. All I was told to tell you was that they're working on a way to stabilize a bridge between Earth and Remnant. Until then, we're on our own. No Dust, no weapons, no support."

"Seriously!?" Nora asked, equally as incensed as Yang. "You'd think after the first two times they'd have already had someone on it."

"It's likely they thought that our return was the end of it, Nora," Ren said, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder. "I think it's obvious now that there's more to this than even we know."

"Well, we're not going to figure it out sitting here," Ruby stated, jumping to her feet. "We'll just have to wait until another one of those portals open, and hope that Ozpin's figured it out by then."

"Right, right…" Blake agreed. "In the meantime, we should probably do what we can to blend in. Ask questions about what's expected of us, offer our help around the ship, things like that. It'll go a long way to earn us goodwill if we do our part."

"Agreed." Weiss, too, stood up. "Do we have anywhere we can start, Jaune?"

"Uh… there's the 'Guerilla Tactics School' that's also an exercise room," Jaune started, counting off what facilities he was able to recall off his hand. "There's the armory where we came in, then the Infirmary on first door you come through when you're coming down the stairs under the command center, the bar in the–"

"There's a _bar_?" Weiss repeated, incredulous.

"Yep, there's a bar!" Nora pointed out of the door. "Allllllllllll the way on the other side of the command center thingymabob."

"Do they card, though?" Yang asked.

"Yang!" Weiss immediately rounded on her heel, ready to scold her teammate.

"It was a joke!" Yang lamely offered. "Jeez, Ice Queen, lighten up…"

* * *

Lawrence sat down on his bunk, hands running through his thinning hair as he looked at a photograph mounted over his bunk.

It was 2035. Afghanistan was practically ages ago. When he was over in the Sandbox, he'd been in his mid-twenties. Eric was a little bit younger than him, but not by much.

* * *

 _"Cap, move!" Eric shouted. Lawrence's head immediately swiveled to face the now-charging Muton heavy, a mass of crimson alloy and muscle aiming straight for him, framed in gleaming purple light by the portal behind it.. He barely managed to dive out of its line of fire, smashing shoulder-first into a rock outcropping as the monstrous X-ray turned on its heel to face him._

 _Before it could get a bead on him, there was a nigh-deafening roar of shotgun fire, accompanied by the cry of a man possessed by rage, and then Eric slammed full-force into the Muton, tackling it through the same portal it had exited. For the slightest of moments, Lawrence thought he saw something on the other side… and then it closed._

* * *

He'd written his second off for dead after that. To hear that he was somehow still alive, still fighting, and had been on _Remnant_ to boot, had struck him dumb. JNPR had come back, in spite of every effort they'd made to leave, and they'd brought a piece of his life that he'd long ago left behind with them.

The door to Menace Team's bunks opened, and Declan stepped through.

"Yup, he's here," he said. As Lawrence met his eye, Declan was grinning ear to ear. "I'll leave you two to catch up on your own."

With that, a man stepped into the room after Declan. Thin, nearly-black hair, slicked back and cut short, and a thin beard that barely hugged the jawline. His right arm had a tattoo of a falling angel, and on the back of his hand was the country they'd wasted their prime in. _'Yeah, that's Eric alright… lookin' 20-odd years younger than he ought_.'

"You've aged like a fine wine, Lieutenant," Lawrence joked. Well, attempted to joke. His voice caught in the back of his throat uncomfortably, and the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips trembled just slightly, and something in his eye was burning like mad, but he was still going to attempt some levity. "What have you been eating?"

Declan stepped behind Eric, and then out of the room, while Eric himself stood just past the threshold of the door, returning Lawrence's look with an awkward grin and a glance off to the side of the room. "I've been on a bit of a 'whatever I can find in the bush' diet, Cap. Shit's great for losing weight, you could stand to try it. You look…" He trailed off, evidently trying to figure out the best way to phrase this.

"Old," Lawrence finished for him. It wasn't an offensive statement to make. He was 59 years old now, far older than any other soul on board. Earth had moved on without Eric, for better or for worse.

"Yeah, old. God, 20 years did a number on you," Eric said, chuckling lightly as he walked over to Lawrence's bunk and leaned on the bed's frame, looking around the room. "So, not only did the aliens ass-fuck us into the stone age, but you've got your own terror squad now."

"Nope, not mine. Fella by the name of Adam Jones is in command. You remember him from Raven Rock?"

"Refresh my memory."

Lawrence pointed across the room at another photo by the door. It was a post-operation photo from last month— he stood, leaning on his sniper rifle, in the center of the frame, with Declan kneeling down next to him, arms draped over the hilts of his axes. Sophie flashed a peace sign at the camera, while Adam simply looked straight ahead, almost past the camera, even, one hand on his holster and the other on the rifle draped across his shoulder. "The blonde one, next to me."

"Shit, that guy. Yeah, I remember him." Eric sighed. "Jesus… he got old fast, too."

"Genetic modifications. Adam was the guinea pig for an attempt to enhance human DNA with alien genetic material," Lawrence explained. "Nothin' much came of it but bad. He's getting old fast, and his mind's goin', slowly but surely. I'm not sure if his head or his body will quit on him first, but I don't think he's gonna make it through the war."

"Let me guess, he's only in command because he's an XCOM guy." Eric frowned, and rolled his eyes as he turned back to Lawrence. "You could lead circles around this fuck, I bet."

"I can't say," Lawrence stated, frowning. "I much prefer this, just hanging on the back line with my rifle and covering the team. I'm not a runner like I used to be. Can't throw myself headlong into fights anymore."

"Surprised you're even still kicking, have to admit," Eric said, shrugging his shoulders. "When those JNPR kids told me you were still alive… I didn't believe it. I figured you would have went down swinging."

"I figured the same," Lawrence replied, "yet here I stand." Slowly, he returned the picture back to its place on the wall, Eric's eyes following him the whole way.

"You still kept that damn thing," Eric noted. "How long has it been since you saw any of the squad?"

"All of 'em are dead except Powell and Valiant. Powell ended up marrying her once they got out of the service, and last I saw they're living out in Billings. That was about ten years ago, though…"

"What about your family?" Eric asked. Lawrence physically recoiled, and he noticed that Eric did the same. "Shit, never mind."

"No… no, it's fine. I don't much like to talk about it, but that's more a 'me' problem than a 'you' problem," Lawrence explained. "I went home, when we surrendered. Went back to Charlotte and the kids, tried to live a normal life. We moved out to Cody, back in Wyoming, built a small ranch out there - but then ADVENT starts rounding up livestock for god knows what fucking reason. Anyhow, about 2020-ish, I picked up a signal on the old ham radio I kept in my barn. There was some group of fellows just off near the creek I was living near, trying to trek their way to Kansas so they could go back for… something. I decided to take my rifle and go look for myself, and I stumbled right into Bradford and his lot. They convinced me to tag along, and… well, I left everyone behind. Haven't spoken to Char or the kids since. Larry's gotta be out of university by now, I reckon, and Jason and Jean won't be long behind him… maybe when this is all over, I'll go lookin' for 'em. I don't know."

Eric scowled and looked off at the other side of the room. Lawrence wasn't sure if he was upset with him, or with something else entirely. Eric had always asked about his life back when they were in the Sandbox, even ended up on calls with Lawrence and his kids sometimes if the tent was particularly busy that night. Eric didn't have a family of his own, never even reacted to questions about it. He just knew he was 'Uncle Eric', at least to Lawrence Junior.

"Well, guess I gotta babysit your geriatric ass until this is all over then, huh?" Eric asked, his scowl slowly morphing into a grin. "You got a spotter?"

"That Ren boy helped me out once, but I'm not so sure he'll always be around, now that all his friends have accompanied him. We could use the extra hand." Lawrence offered his hand with a smile, waiting for Eric to shake it, but instead he found the other man's arms around his neck and his face buried in his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're alive," he said, his voice trembling slightly on the last syllable.

"Likewise, Eric," Lawrence agreed, slowly returning the gesture. He wasn't much of an affectionate man, but it felt right.

* * *

Team RWBY's little group huddle with JNPR hadn't been the _most_ productive thing in the world, especially considering that Weiss still wasn't giving them a straight answer on the whole 'Ozpin' thing, but any start was a good start in Ruby's mind. At the very least, they had a few friends. Ruby was searching for one of those friends now. Roderick had promised to show her around XCOM's weaponry, and she intended to take him up on that.

Ruby searched everywhere else she could think of, but eventually her travels took her to the bar that JNPR mentioned. Roderick was sitting off at one of the tables, looking at a long line of photos on the wall across from him, as was Jerry, who idly fooled with his metal hand. Empty shot glasses littered the table in front of them, and a half-empty bottle of liquor sat next to Jerry's hand, having evidently spilled some off the side of the table.

"So you said it's 'tissue rejection?'" Roderick asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Tygan says that my nervous system isn't meshing with the artificial nerves in the wrist attachment, so they're out of sync or something. Basically it means that I'll just randomly lose control of my hand- it might just close up, it might randomly open, it might twist in some stupid way that makes it impossible to do anything. I'm supposed to-" Jerry's eyes caught Ruby's, and the man raised his metal hand, which immediately closed into a fist, drawing an exaggerated sigh from him. "You see this shit, Roderick?"

"Yeah, I see it," Roderick replied, before looking to Ruby with a smile. Even with one eye, he managed to look more friendly than intimidating. "Hey, Ruby. How's it going? You settled in okay?"

"Yep," Ruby responded cheerily. "Just got everything sorted with the team. It's actually pretty nice in here, all things considered."

"Slept in worse places, that's for sure. The back of that van, for one." Roderick looked over at Jerry knowingly, who responded by extending his metal bird to him. "Gasp! Right in front of this innocent child! Scandalous."

"I'm not a _child_ ," Ruby protested. "I'm 15."

"Right, right," Jerry muttered, letting his hand fall to the table with a metallic _thunk_. "The fuck do you want, then?"

"Hey, I told her earlier I was gonna let her take a look at the mag weapons and fool around, you know? Treat her with a bit of hospitality, considering nobody else made the fucking effort," Roderick explained. "Chill out. I get it, the op has you stressed, man, but we have a way of dealing with that now." Roderick made a vague gesture to Ruby, which sort of confused her. _'What would they need me for?'_

"Yeah. Got it." Jerry shook his head. "You go do whatever the fuck. I'll wait here."

"Alright, man." Roderick stood up from his seat, and offered the man a non-committal pat on the shoulder. "Take her up on that shit, you really should. Don't let pride get in your way."

"It's not a pride thing," Jerry called after him, before lowering his head into his remaining hand with a sigh. Roderick motioned for Ruby to follow along, so she did, trailing behind the big man as he navigated the corridors of the Avenger. It certainly was a dingy-looking ship. Really depressing, too. Still, it wasn't all bad. There was plenty of cool designs lying around, not to mention the guns. The very interesting, very _strange_ guns.

"So, JNPR convinced you to come along, or you followed them?" Roderick asked as he placed his hands in his pockets. "They'd told us they had friends back home waiting on them, but we never expected we'd have you here."

"We made the choice," Ruby explained. "Last time, they didn't even let anyone know they'd gone, and we'd been looking for them for days, so we decided that this time we wouldn't let them go alone and be gone for even longer."

"Awfully kind of you," Roderick said with a grin. "I always liked JNPR, ever since they got here. Sure, they're all a bit on the wackier side, but who isn't nowadays? They stuck their necks out for us, even when their 'Aura' things weren't working right and they could very realistically have gotten killed out there. We owe 'em a lot, whether people want to acknowledge it or not."

"Pyrrha said you were really cool." Ruby felt it was only right to tell him how much his kindness was appreciated. "She said you were always kind to them from the moment they walked in. It really meant a lot to her."

"Well, I'm flattered that Big Red thinks so highly of me," Roderick stated with an air of false braggadocio. He seemed to be a joyful, outgoing guy, even with the whole 'missing eye' thing. Ruby figured they'd get along pretty well. "Tell her she's not too bad herself. Anyhow, you said you wanted to talk shop, see what kind of guns and stuff we had… well, since your friends left, we kinda had a little bit of an upgrade."

Roderick motioned to a window in front of them. Ruby peered inside and watched as a woman, not much older than Yang with sad, tired-looking eyes looked over some schematic, while an older, portly man standing next to her looked over her shoulder, concerned. In front of the schematics was a long, steel-gray rifle with a large scope, and a sort of dish-like transmitter at the end of it.

"That's our newest sniper rifle design. We've converted pretty much our entire arsenal to magnetic weaponry, or, in the case of my sword and Declan's axes, ion weaponry," Roderick explained. "We're basically packing rail-guns into rifle-sized shells. Those things can punch through plate metal like it's tissue paper.."

Ruby watched in awe as the bigger man grabbed the weapon, and gave it a short inspection. It was huge- about as long as Crescent Rose in her rifle form, but much sleeker, and uniformly gray. _'Definitely couldn't hurt to give it some color.'_

"Anyhow, there's that." Roderick pointed over to the wall behind the two people. "And then there's our armor. All of it's Earth metals and materials mixed with rare-earth elements that the aliens apparently have a lot more of than us, like rhenium and osmium. Stuff's hard enough to stop a bullet… or a couple of mag rounds, if they're not head-on."

Ruby listened attentively as Roderick continued. "The shit's heavy, though, and I hear the techs are already trying to figure out ways to lighten the load. For now, they've just offered an alternative 'skeleton suit'. It's lighter, and comes with a grappling hook to increase mobility, but in a straight up fight, you've got a lot less armor to protect you. We also got the EXO suit that Freddy was wearing when you met him." "Freddy?" Ruby repeated. She hadn't met a 'Freddy'.

"Ah, right. We call Fyodor 'Freddy'," Roderick explained. "His nick's 'Iron Man', but if you wear out a nickname, it gets boring, so Freddy it is. Anyhow, those EXO suits have even more of the armor plate and stuff than the standard Predator suit does, but they're heavier and require the powered exoskeletons to move. Since they're getting that much extra power, though, we're working on mounting extra weapons to them. Flamethrowers, shotguns, rocket launchers, that kind of stuff."

"Cool! We have exoskeleton tech back on Remnant, but I've never seen it outside of weapon catalogues. You guys' suits are really basic, but that's what makes them so cool! I bet they're really easy to maintain with that many less moving parts," Ruby gushed, remembering seeing Fyodor sprinting towards the building they and XCOM had been hiding in. He was moving so fast that he may have even been able to keep up with her Semblance.

"Eh, that's more of the tech guys' things than ours. I haven't really seen you use your weapon yet." Roderick pointed to Crescent Rose on her back. "The fuck even is that monstrosity?"

"It's a sniper rifle and a scythe. A scythfle, if you listen to Yang," Ruby explained.

"God _damn_!" Roderick's brows shot up his forehead, and the man smiled. "I gotta see that shit in the field, then. Sounds fucking awesome."

"I mean, I might be a little biased, buuuuuuut~" Ruby said with a grin of her own. "Yeah. Pretty awesome." Her attention turned to an approaching figure across the hall, who seemed to be walking towards her and Roderick with a purpose. "Oh, hey!"

Roderick turned to look at the man himself, and he noticeably buckled. The man's face was visibly gaunt, with veins that seemed to glow a dull orange around his neck. His forearms, visible below his rolled-up sleeves, had similar glowing veins. He was muscular, but only in the sense that he was so thin that there was nothing but muscle to look at, really. Getting a good look at him helped Ruby to realize just why Roderick seemed a little startled. They guy's appearance screamed 'sketchy'.

"Roderick," the man said, in a thick accent Ruby couldn't quite place.

"Adam," Roderick replied, the tone of his voice making it clear that he didn't trust the man. "Thought you were at the range?"

"Ran out of rounds, decided to take a walk." Adam looked down at Ruby, his eyes narrowing. He almost seemed… _angry._ She wasn't sure why he'd be angry, it's not like they'd met before now. Wait, Ren mentioned an Adam before. Was this him? "Who the bloody hell are you?"

"This is Ruby," Roderick answered, taking a step forward and to the right. Said step put him slightly in front of Ruby, so that Adam would have to go around him to reach her. "What's going on? You look like someone pissed in your Wheaties, not that you don't always look that way."

Adam didn't answer Roderick's question, nor did he even look at Roderick. Instead, he questioned Ruby again. "Is that right… Where's your friends? I heard they came back in for a social call."

"Actually," Ruby said, matter-of-factly. "They came back to help. My team and I wanted to come along, so here we are. Anyway, nice to meet you. I'm Ruby Rose."

"Adam Jones," he replied tersely. "Where are they?"

"How about you kindly fuck off?" Roderick interrupted, moving to push Adam back. Adam's response was instantaneous- no, even faster than that. The moment Roderick's hand started moving, Adam had already grabbed him by the wrist.

"Didn't your mother teach you it was rude to interrupt a conversation in progress, Roddy?" Adam asked with faux politeness, still not even glancing at the man. "No, you fuck off. I'm on business." With that, Adam released the hand, leaving Roderick shocked. Ruby couldn't say that she wasn't impressed either. There was no way he could have seen that coming without using his peripheral vision, and even then, his reaction time was inhuman. Were JNPR wrong? Did these people have Semblances after all?

"Now," he continued, his voice lowering almost to a growl. "I asked you nicely. Be a doll and speak when spoken to."

"I don't know," Ruby lied. "A guy brought us to our bunks, and then we kinda went off and did our own thing."

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Adam asked with a smile that was frighteningly artificial. He placed a glowing, veiny hand on her shoulder, and gave her a little shake. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss. Pass along my regards if you catch them before I do."

With that, he shoved Roderick to the side with enough force to send him forcefully into the opposite wall, and stormed past them.

"Jesus fuck, Adam, cool your shit!" Roderick called after him. As Adam's figure retreated down the hallway, Roderick returned his attention to Ruby. "Sorry about that. He's… well, he didn't take shit well."

"What do you mean?" Ruby asked. "He seemed really angry at JNPR. Did something happen while they were here?"

"Adam said Jaune had a freeze-up when they were on an operation, and if Pyrrha hadn't thought fast, someone could have died. Still, he seemed to be getting over that. Then, JNPR went home. Things got _bad_ after they left. We lost a lot of good guys because ADVENT had upped their operations to try and counter JNPR's strengths. Without them, we were basically outgunned in every way." Roderick sighed, scratching the back of his head with a wince. "Adam was already not doing so good. He's been fighting since the aliens first invaded our world. Lost almost all his friends from back then. He wasn't mentally prepared to be stuck in this again, and I think he's losing it."

"What's wrong with him?" Ruby asked. "I could see his veins glowing. Is he always like that?"

"No," Roderick replied. "About last month, he lost a lot of weight and started wearing his sleeves up. Maybe they were always like that, but I only just now noticed them. I don't know what's up with that guy, but he's not normal, and I don't just mean mentally. The dude's unbelievably fast, he's way stronger than a man his size should be, and he's fucking _tough_. Jerry punched him once with his metal hand, right in the mouth, and the guy didn't even flinch. Didn't even _blink_."

"What does he want with my friends, then?" Ruby asked. It didn't sound like anything good, and if she had any say in the matter, she wasn't about to let them suffer because of one particularly angry guy's vendetta. As horrible as it was that he lost his friends, it didn't make lashing out at people that were just trying to help right. It wouldn't bring any of them back.

"Certainly not gonna invite them over for tea and crumpets. Come on, let's go try and head him off before he gets himself in trouble." With that, Roderick pushed himself off the wall, groaning and grabbing at his back. "Damn, that smarts…"


	31. Chapter 31

Fyodor looked at his PDA, and opened the map that Central had sent him. Another operation, this soon after a raid… this had to be important. Central'd said that he wanted Fyodor in command for this one, and for at least a few of the kids to come along. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this wasn't going to be an easy operation.

"You said this is VIP extraction?" Phil asked, resting his chin on his hand and watching Fyodor with a look of quiet anticipation. He was one of the guys that Central had recommended, and Fyodor couldn't see any reason not to acquiesce. "I wouldn't think we'd need to bring our new friends just for a stealthy smash and grab, especially if the target's on the range."

"That's the thing, Phil," Fyodor muttered, as he reviewed the information on his screen. "ADVENT is onto this guy, too. You remember that Think Tank group that the Commander mentioned a while back? This is one of their guys. He's a weapons design guru from Germany, used to be the head of the German military's R&D division back before the war. Colonel Klaus Reiben."

"And why is ADVENT interested in the good colonel?" Phil asked.

"Probably because they know we are," Fyodor replied. "Evidently the man's been hiding out with the Think Tank. But Japan's not a big country. They'll find his safehouse eventually."

"Do we know where it is?" Phil stood up, slowly stretching each of his limbs. "It would be nice to be ahead of ADVENT for once."

"Yes, we have a location. We'll be deploying in a couple of days, once the kids get settled."

"Does the VIP have enough time to wait a couple of days?"

"Yes. According to the Think Tank, they have enough decoys and dead ends that they could stall them for a month, if need be. That being said, the sooner we retrieve him, the better."

Phil nodded, his brows furrowed in thought. "So… you already asked me to come along. Who else?"

"I never got a straight answer from you, Phil," Fyodor replied cheekily, offering him a hand. "Are you in?"

"No, I've been looking to go on a vacation to Normandy instead." Phil shook his head. "Who else is with us?"

"No one, yet. I plan to ask Jerry, and before the kids returned, I was going to ask Adam. He has… experience in VIP retrieval."

"But now that they're here…"

"I plan on bringing Pyrrha along, at the very least. You have seen how strong that power of hers is. She and Adam will fight like cats and dogs, and I can't lead my first mission with that sort of pressure." Fyodor sighed, stroking his beard and attempting to think of an alternative. Murphy had been right to be unsure about leading a team - it was a rough business. "It's a fast moving op, so we can't afford to have too many heavies. You're already going to be out of your element in the skeleton suit."

"I'll manage. Perhaps Cole or Gawen?" Phil offered, shrugging his shoulders. "They're fast, and Cole seemed welcoming enough."

"Tak, Cole is strong, and a good man, deep down. Good idea. So, that's four of us, plus Pyrrha. Makes five. Who else?"

"I have a feeling bringing Jaune along might be wise."

"Maybe… maybe. That's six."

"For the other two, bring two of RWBY. That way, they can see what they'll be dealing with firsthand. Headfirst into the fray and all."

"Who, then?"

"Fuck if I know, you're the team leader." Phil turned his head to the door, frowning. "Sounds like someone's coming."

Phil could usually detect things long before anyone else did. This time, though, Fyodor could hear it too. Someone was stomping down the hall towards them. Either someone was getting used to the EXO suits, or…

"Do you think he figured it out?" Phil asked.

"We only announced it to half the ship," Fyodor replied, standing up and stretching his neck. "Well, we made it about an hour without an incident. Let us take pride in that."

"Oui," Phil agreed, "I'll leave you to it."

With that, he left, and Fyodor was alone, waiting for Adam. He hadn't been informed yet but Menace Team, fractured as it was, was his wheelhouse now. He wouldn't take the news well, hence the delay in telling him, but he seemed to have picked up on things anyway. For what it was worth, Fyodor didn't blame him. He'd been informed of Adam's 'situation' by Grace when she attempted to hand him the reins. If anything, Fyodor felt sorry for Adam. The man had given his body, his soul, his very life for humanity, and all he'd gotten in return was suffering. Still, his recent actions were unacceptable, even if they were a result of circumstances rather than anger and pain.

Adam stepped into the room, not even acknowledging Fyodor, and going straight for his locker. He pulled out his skeleton suit and began dressing up. He didn't seem to be in the mood to be talked down.

"Adam."

"What?" Adam replied, terse.

"What do you plan on doing with that, tovarysh?"

Adam pulled the vest section of the armor on, before turning his attention to the many belts and fasteners that held it together. "Take a wild fucking guess, Freddy." He punctuated his statement by cocking the grapple gun on his left gauntlet. What he planned to do with the grapple gun, Fyodor had no idea, but he doubted anything good would come of it. "You remember the plan, right?"

Fyodor sighed. Of course he remembered Adam's hare-brained scheme. He'd been the only person Adam trusted with it, and he still wasn't sure why. Back before the kids left, it was simply sneaking off the Avenger, but now he was getting into serious danger, all for the sake of a half-baked plan to find a dead man. "This isn't a good idea, Adam. You know that."

"I know," Adam replied, gritting his teeth. "But what else am I supposed to do? Keep going fucking mad while everyone else on the ship has completely given up? These kids are our best chance at finding him, Freddy, and I'm going to take that chance."

"But is doing _this_ the right way? Surely you can ask to borrow them, that will draw the Chosen's attention," Fyodor suggested. "If those children are forced, they may well do permanent damage to you."

"Well, fuck me, I thought you knew about my suicidal ideation by now," Adam half-joked—Fyodor felt generous calling it even half— while fastening the belt that connected the upper and lower halves of the suit. "Where are they?"

Fyodor stood silent for a moment, debating whether it was worth telling him or not. He had promised he would help Adam with his stupid plan, believing it would give the man the peace he so desperately needed. But it hadn't calmed him at all, and was now threatening to put Fyodor's own peace at risk. Yet, he found himself unable to argue against him. He could only ask. "Please, reconsider."

"No. I have a plan, and I'm going to execute. Besides, these kids arrived at the perfect time. I'll be back when it's over… probably."

Fyodor sighed. "Where are you going?"

"Engineering. If anyone asks, I'm going to be out in the woods, getting some hours in with the Spider Suit."

"Right, right… good luck, Adam. I believe they're out on the deck, if you're going to continue this foolish plan. Take care of yourself."

Adam turned, grabbing his cap out of the locker and shutting it behind him before offering Fyodor a wan smile. "You too, Iron Man. I appreciate you doing this for me."

"I'd say it's not a problem, but then I would be a liar."

"Not the worst thing to be." With that, Adam slipped his cap on and walked out the door, headed for Engineering. Fyodor didn't recall that being part of the plan, and a part of him was morbidly curious as to what that entailed.

* * *

Adam's trip to Engineering was uneventful, as every trip he ever had down the halls of the ship was. People avoided him, feared him. So much the better, at least he could execute his plan without interruption.

Shen was, as expected, working on the samples for the Overdrive Serum. Tygan had finished live testing the other day, but the delivery system was Shen's responsibility. If he wanted to last long enough to… _properly_ vent his frustration, he'd need more equalizers than a grappling hook. Shen was currently looking over a set of needles on her desk, and what appeared to be some sort or captive-bolt gun next to it.

"Lily," Adam called as he stepped through the door. She recoiled at the sound of his voice, bracing herself against the table and shooting a look of 'get the hell out of my shop'. _'Even she's scared.'_

However, once she got a good look at him, Lily visibly eased, giving a weak attempt at a smile and wave. "Adam, hey. What brings you here?"

"Tygan told me you're working on the Overdrive Serum delivery system. Any progress?" he asked, keeping his voice level and friendly. It was easy to tell he was faking, but dammit, it wouldn't work if he spooked her too much.

"Yeah, but it's tough," Shen replied, turning back to her table as Adam approached. "A needle is definitely the most efficient vector in terms of potency, but in a combat situation, it's gonna be hard to find a vein, and most of our guys wear full coverage armor, anyway. The mist delivery system is Gremlin portable, and I'm working on getting it diluted enough to be able to fire efficiently from the medigun, but it's just that- diluted. Add to the fact that it works by exposure rather than direct injection, and the effect will be way less potent. I'm not sure if the sacrifice is worth the amount of firepower it takes to kill a Berserker."

"I don't particularly know, myself. I came about something else," Adam said, leaning over the desk and looking at the needles. "Tygan says this might fix me. That true?"

Lily paused for a moment before speaking. "... I'm sorry, but I don't think so. It'll delay the symptoms at best, but without a fresh supply of Meld, all it will do is stabilize you until your bloodstream cycles it out. There aren't enough Berserkers on Earth to keep you constantly stable, so it's more of a sort of delaying thing. At least, it can slow things down and buy us time to find out where ADVENT's keeping the Meld now."

"And Tygan said the serum itself is ready for use?" Adam asked.

"Yeah… why?" Lily raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly past Adam and trying to physically block him from reaching the syringes. This was not looking promising.

"I want to know for myself," he said. "If it works."

"Well, you can wait till I figure out the delivery vector."

"We're not in live fire, and I've got plenty of veins, Lily."

"Adam, I have specific orders–"

"Lil. _Please_ ," Adam didn't enjoy begging, but he'd do what he had to do to get the serum. "Look at me. I'm a bloody wreck. Everything fuckin' hurts from the top down. I can't sleep, can't go five minutes without the mother of all fucking migraines, and on top of that, I have to deal with all… _this._ I know you have your orders, I have mine, but Lily, I can't function like this. You lot have told me over and over again that you need me here, in spite of everything I say and do when this gets bad. If not for me, then do it for everyone else. The less pain I'm in, the more I can focus on keeping my head right."

Shen didn't respond immediately, so Adam dialed up the pressure, resting his hand on top of hers and giving the best 'kicked dog in the rain' look he could muster. "Please. Help me."

She bit her lip, inhaling deeply through her nose as she turned away from Adam, staring at her desk. They stood there for about half a minute before Shen finally moved, pulling her hand away and using it to grab one of the syringes. "Give me an arm, either arm. Put it on the desk."

Adam complied, laying his left arm out on the desk and waiting as Shen grabbed one of the vials of the serum, filling the syringe with the glowing orange liquid. Once she was done, she walked back to the desk, flicking the needle a couple of times before placing a hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Do _not_ make me regret doing this for you, Adam. Bradford will tear me up if he finds out."

"I won't, Lily," he lied. It hurt, truthfully. He'd known this girl since she was maybe up to his knee, following Raymond around and watching Adam and the lads playing football in the rec lounge. Now, here she was, giving him what basically amounted to alien blood steroids while under strict orders to the contrary, all while looking at him like he was about to reach over and tear out her throat with his teeth.

 _'If Vahlen's still alive, I'm going to kill her.'_

His fantasy of tearing the doctor to pieces for basically press-ganging him into a slow, painful suicide continued as Shen slowly lined up the needle, and stuck it in the skin just before the inside of his elbow. Whatever all was in this serum _burned_ , felt like she'd injected gasoline into his veins. His arm felt heavy, and soon, all of his body felt the same.

"Why are you geared up?" Shen asked.

"Haven't gotten used to the Spider yet," Adam lied. "Gonna go out into the woods near the Falls and get some practice hours."

"What about it's giving you trouble? Mechanical issue?"

"Nah, just adjustment. I've never _intentionally_ flown through the air before, and honestly, I never thought I'd do anything of the sort. It's made grabbing a beer a piece of cake, though."

"Adam, that joke would only be funny if the grip wasn't strong enough to shatter bottles on impact. Declan tried it."

That he had, and Adam distinctly recalled the ranger being almost inconsolable, as it was the last bottle of Grey Goose they had in reserve, and after False Prophet, nobody wanted to risk infiltrating a city center just to get booze. They still hadn't gotten any. Maybe if he got lucky while he was out, he could bring some back as an apology gift. He'd see when it came to that.

"Thank you again, Lily," Adam said as she withdrew the needle. "You've put me at ease, if only for a bit."

"I hope so," she said, with a labored breath. "God knows you need it. Go ahead and bug out, I guess. I'll let Bradford know what you're doing. Apparently, Roderick was looking for you earlier."

"Really?" Adam asked, cocking a brow. "The fuck did he want?"

"... I shouldn't be telling you this, but he doesn't trust you now that JNPR's back."

 _'He's right not to.'_

Adam shrugged, returning to full height and starting off towards the door. "Well, you can't please everyone, I suppose."

"After what you've said and done, he has a reason to be concerned, Adam. You've been losing it."

"Lily, I lost a man out there while they were busy trying to figure out how to save their own skins, and we lost Murphy." Adam's voice slowly raised in volume, and he felt it again. Anger. All-consuming, almighty _anger_ that would eat him alive if he let it. He couldn't. He had to execute this plan perfectly, or it wouldn't work. "If they'd have stuck around, Jack would be alive and Murphy would be here, so you're goddamn right I'm pissed off. Maybe, just maybe, if they wanted to be treated with a modicum of decency, they'd have done us the decency of not **hanging us out to fucking dry** ."

Lily took a step back, and her expression softened, if only a little bit. _'Now she fucking feels sorry for me.'_

With that done, Adam exited Engineering, and noted that the heaviness in his limbs and head had gone, replaced with the slightest burning sensation. He felt… _powerful._ Like he had when he first underwent gene therapy. Like he could topple a mountain.

Like he could beat seven shades of hell out of Jaune, and move forward with the plan.

* * *

Jaune longed for the sweet embrace of sleep, but Pyrrha was insistent that they continue the pair's training regimen as usual. Even considering the fact that he'd just not long ago fought a gigantic half-Grimm, half-alien monster, jumped through a portal, and then flown all the way to the Avenger, he still couldn't bring himself to refuse his partner. Mainly because she didn't ask him.

Thankfully, he'd managed to get a bit of a nap in before their training session, so he wasn't entirely dead on his feet, just a little sluggish. Pyrrha had evidently noticed, and was taking it a bit easy today. Rather than sparring, she seemed content to just go over technique with him.

"Alright," she started. "Shield up. Right foot back."

Jaune did as he was instructed.

"Now, remember what we talked about before. Swing, then pull your shield in front of you, but make sure to move your foot forward with it. Then, outward and upward, then thrust. Ready?"

"Ready," Jaune replied.

"Go."

Jaune threw a horizontal slash from the outside in, stepping forward as he did so, before shifting his left foot and shield back to the front, just in time to intercept an offhand swipe from Pyrrha. The moment he felt her blade impact his shield, he pushed out with it, moving it slightly up as he stabbed at her side, blocked from contact by her own shield.

"Good. I think you've finally gotten the hang of it," Pyrrha said, her eyes fluttering slightly as she smiled. Perhaps it was just the lighting, but something about Pyrrha looked… different from usual. Jaune couldn't really figure out what it was, but he knew that he liked it.

Her face hardened in a flash as she took a step back and put her shield at her hip. "But it's just as likely to be dumb luck. Come on, Jaune. Do it again."

Jaune nodded, returning to his stance and bracing himself, before swinging at Pyrrha, to no avail. This time, when Pyrrha swung for his shield, she followed it up as he raised it, forcing her to jump backwards lest Miló make contact. Pyrrha was smiling again, watching as Jaune threw his shield back in place just in time to block a strike, then attempted to push her blade to the side to return the favor. She was prepared, shifting her weapon to its spear form as she bashed his sword off to the side and swung the weapon at his head, missing him by an inch as he ducked under it and performed another thrust that just barely missed her neck.

"You're doing well!" she said, backing up and readying her shield again, before rushing forward, attempting to break through Jaune's defenses with her speed. He managed to sidestep her charge, stepping in rather than out to get around her shield, just like she taught him, and swinging straight down for her shoulder. Pyrrha moved faster than he'd ever seen her move, throwing her body around and smashing her shield into Crocea Mors, leaving her to roll to a stop a couple of feet away and shift Miló back to sword mode.

 _'Press the advantage, Jaune, don't let up_.' Her lessons had become so ingrained in his head over the past few months that he could practically hear her chiding him in his head. So, he obeyed, rushing forward with his sword up, metal clashing against metal as she raised her shield to stop him. Her attempt at a thrust was parried by his shield as he went for a second swipe, this time starting from his opposite shoulder, to try and force her to turn and expose herself. Instead, she threw out her leg and spun towards the blade, throwing her shield up as she tripped Jaune and sent him stumbling forward.

"Your body is just as much a weapon as your sword, Jaune!" she called, her metal heels audibly clanging against the metal deck of the Avenger as she ran back towards him, catching him mid stumble by the back of his hoodie, the sharp edge of Akoúo̱ pressing gently into the nape of his neck. Before he could say or do anything in reply, he noticed Miló slowly poking into his back. "Good effort, though. You adapted well."

"Thanks, Pyr. Guess I know what to work on for next time," Jaune replied, and the weapons slowly withdrew from his back.

Someone was clapping in front of him.

Jaune involuntarily flinched as he looked up and saw Adam Jones smiling at him, offering a slow clap and an amused whistle. "Fuck. Me. Dead. You almost looked impressive there, lad."

Jaune didn't respond, but Pyrrha did. He heard forceful and rapid footsteps behind him as Pyrrha began to close the distance between Jaune and Adam. In spite of this, Adam didn't take his eyes off of Jaune, and he never stopped smiling. His eyes, of course, were bright orange now, and they were _glowing._ His eyes used to be blue, and Jaune was fairly certain they never glowed before this moment.

"Excuse me, love, this is an A and B sort of conversation, so would you kindly C to it that you fuck off?" Adam asked Pyrrha, not even deigning to look at her until she got right up in his face. He was slightly shorter than her, and a bit smaller, but he certainly didn't look intimidated. Upon closer examination, his eyes weren't the only things glowing. Jaune could see orange trails running down his arms, and it wasn't the 'setting sun' orange, either. It was like a neon sign that said _'Something is definitely wrong with me'_.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Jaune couldn't see her face at this angle, but he could imagine she wasn't happy.

"I heard you lot had felt bad about abandoning us here, and came back with your friends. Funny, that business of you leaving one of my men to die, even if he was a fucking prick. Be a dear, and move out of my way." Adam took a step forward, but Pyrrha immediately cut him off, reaching out with her arm.

"I think-" she started, and then Jaune watched what might have been the fastest movement he'd ever seen by anyone not named Ruby Rose. In a flash, Adam's eyes cut to the hand, and his left hand crossed over and shoved her hand down, before making an arc as he backhanded Pyrrha across the face with a resounding smack, turning her head with it. There was a deep, foreboding silence that followed. Jaune didn't dare move, and Pyrrha remained still as well. Adam shifted his gaze back to Jaune, his expression neutral.

"Now, are you going to be a good girl and-" Adam's sentence was interrupted by a wild swing from Akoúo̱ that would have likely caved his head in, had he not ducked before the swing was anywhere close to his head, leaving him crouched eye to eye to Pyrrha. He said something else, though Jaune couldn't hear it at this distance, before dropping low and kicking Pyrrha's legs out from under her, causing her to land on her hands and knees on the metal deck. With the same speed he'd displayed earlier, he slammed his knee directly into the side of her head, before turning his attention back to Jaune with a smug look on his face, and a wave.

"So, Jaune, you properly warmed up?" he asked.

Jaune didn't respond, simply tightening his grip on Crocea Mors and raising his shield, preparing for an attack.

"Looks like you're still-" Adam immediately turned around and leapt into the air, turning his back to Jaune to deliver a kick that Pyrrha was only barely able to block. How had he known she was getting up? "Good Lord, you are rude!"

Somehow, Adam had managed to perfectly recover from that flying kick, in spite of only hitting metal, performing a handspring up with his back to Pyrrha, who was up on her feet and readying Miló to attack him. Adam turned just enough to see her, and spun on his heels, throwing another kick that collided with her shield, again acting as if the clash of metal against bone was a flea bite at best. A third kick, lower than the last, hit Pyrrha in the shin, and was immediately followed by another sweep as Adam swung both his legs, knocking Pyrrha onto her back. Adam then kipped up to his feet and stomped on her stomach, before walking over her towards Jaune.

"Been waiting to do this for a long time, boy. Had a few months to stew on it, and now, I'm finally gonna take it out of your hide."

Adam threw a punch, one that Jaune was barely able to block in time, throwing his shield up just in time to catch the fist, before feeling a sharp pain in his inner thigh as Adam threw a savage kick, then circled his leg back around to kick Jaune in the hip, before turning around to confront a charging Pyrrha, throwing a punch hard enough to force her backwards even with her shield up. Then, he threw out his other arm, and pointed some sort of device on his wrist at her, firing a grappling hook that latched onto her shield. Then, he pulled, freeing the shield from her grip and back towards him, upon which he swung it over his head to strike Jaune, barely missing his head, before looping around and hitting Pyrrha in the back. As she lurched forward from the impact, Adam threw a kick at her head, following up with a series of punches that a staggered Pyrrha barely managed to block, before grabbing one of her arms and throwing her over his shoulder, sending her careening into Jaune. While Pyrrha was able to land on her feet and steady herself, the impact sent Jaune head over heels.

"Come on, you two, I'm not even sweating!" Adam called, smiling at Jaune. "If you can't beat me, how the fuck are you supposed to help us beat ADVENT? I'm only one man!"

'Only' one man was certainly an understatement. It was like he had eyes in the back of his head, and could see everything they were doing before they even went to do it, not to mention how _fast_ he was. Especially his eyes; they were running between him and Pyrha so fast he almost couldn't see his pupils.

Then, it hit him. _'It IS his eyes'_.

"Pyrrha, I think something's up with his eyes," Jaune said, attempting to keep his voice low.

"I've noticed. His reaction time is almost inhuman. I've never seen someone move that quickly, outside of Ruby, and even then, her reactions aren't that fast." Pyrrha looked to Jaune, bracing herself and opening her hand to recall her shield, yanking it out of the grappling hook in the process. "Do you have a plan?"

"I don't know what his whole deal about being able to react to things without seeing them is, but he's still just a human being," Jaune replied. "I think that if we both attack him from different angles at different times, he'll have to focus on one of us at a time. He doesn't have Aura, so a couple of good hits, and he's down."

Pyrrha nodded. "Good plan. You find a way around him, and I'll keep his attention."

"Okay, let's do this."

"Are you two done conspiring?" Adam asked, cracking his knuckles as a surge of orange light flashed up his arms to his eyes. "I'm not done with you yet."

* * *

Roderick absolutely knew that Shen was lying about Adam's whereabouts. There was no way he would leave the ship without causing a scene, not as nuts as he was. As such, he needed to find Team JNPR. Ruby wasn't sure where Jaune and Pyrrha went, but she knew for a fact that Ren was napping, and Nora was in the GTS. That would be their first stop.

Nora was, sure enough, in the GTS, bench-pressing a rather large set of weights while Cole and Conleth, one of the new rookies, watched in awe.

"Jesus…" Conleth muttered.

"That's gotta be at least 400 pounds," Cole agreed.

"They don't," Nora grunted, "call me 'Thunder Thighs'... for **nothin'!** "

"Um, Nora?" Ruby piped up from behind Roderick. "Nobody calls you 'Thunder Thighs'."

" _I_ do," Nora stated emphatically as she performed another rep, then another. Conleth tented his hands and leaned forward, enthralled by the display of strength, while Cole ran a hand through his now much shorter hair. Evidently, the Commander had finally bugged him enough to cut it.

"What do you want, Rod?" Cole asked, turning to look at him. "Somethin' going on?"

"Adam's missing, and I need a head count on JNPR. Ren's in their bunks, Nora's here." Roderick then pointed over to Nora. "Where are Jaune and Pyrrha."

"They went outside to train," Nora replied. "They've been out there a little while."

"Shit…" Roderick muttered. If Adam went outside, then unless they managed to fire off a few rounds, nobody would hear what was happening outside of the hangar bay. Considering there was no news on that front, that meant there were no witnesses yet.

"You want a hand?" Cole asked, slowly standing up. He was a tall, broad man, plenty big enough to take on just about anyone in a fistfight. Could he stand up to Adam, though?

"I think I'll take what I can get," Roderick said. "Let's go."

"What's the fastest way out?" Ruby asked. "I can use my Semblance to get up there and find them faster!"

"You can?" Roderick felt relieved, if only a little bit. Ruby had a far better chance of both catching and subduing Adam if it came to it than he did. "Get going."

"Alright, you got it!" With that Ruby started forward, unleashing a loud boom and a gust of wind that threw Roderick backwards and bowled Cole over his chair. Within a second, they heard a distant 'Sacredamn!' from Remi, and the sound of something bouncing off one of the Avenger's walls.

Roderick sat up, turning back to his fellows. Nora seemed completely unbothered, while Conleth gawked at the door, and Cole leaned on his fallen chair as he got back to his feet.

"God _damn_ ," Roderick muttered as he stood. "Well, we know what her superpower is now. Come on, Cole."

"Right, lead the way."

With that, Roderick took off down the hall, running for the stairwell. Remi sat in the middle of the walkway, rubbing his head and cursing over his shoulder as they passed him. Just in front of the stairwell, there was a sizeable dent in the wall, and a small pile of rose petals sitting in the doorway.

"Since when did anyone take up horticulture?" Cole asked.

"No fucking idea," Roderick replied. "Let's hurry this shit up and get out there."

"Right, right."

With that exchange, Roderick started up the stairs, noting a distinct lack of sound from the hangar area. Normally, Firebrand at least was loitering around her ship and messing with it, but it sounded… dead. Empty. However, once he got to the top of the stairs and looked through the door, he found that it wasn't empty at all. Indeed, Fyodor was standing right near the access door that led to the deck, with the Commander, Jerry, Shen, Tygan and Bradford right next to them. Shen, in particular, looked pissed.

"Cole, Braddock," Bradford greeted them.

"What the hell's going on up here, sir?" Roderick asked, looking to Fyodor. "And why the hell is he up here?"

"You'll find out in a minute. Fyodor, you're with them."

"Tak, Central. Roddy, I promise there is an explanation for this, but it can wait until we're done here." Fyodor started over to the access door, consternation etched in his features. It was clear to Roderick that something had happened to Jaune and Pyrrha, or something was about to happen to them, and he wasn't about to go in without any answers.

"Nah, Freddy, you're gonna tell me what the fuck's going on before me and Cole do anything," Roderick said. Behind him, he heard Cole draw his handgun.

"Adam happened," Fyodor replied.

"In that case," Cole said, stepping in front of Roderick and checking the amount of rounds in his revolver, motioning to the door. "Clear the doorway, if you please."

"Sergeant, I would strongly advise-" Tygan started, only for Cole to point his pistol at him and make a 'shush' gesture. Roderick jogged after him, grabbing his knife off of his belt— _'Goddammit, I need to keep my pistol on me'_ — and Fyodor brought up the rear. Once they were lined up, Cole quickly crossed himself, before kicking open the door and aiming his pistol directly at Adam.

The scene was certainly not a flattering one. Adam had a nasty gash on his right cheek, orange-red blood oozing from it rather quickly, while Jaune was on one knee with a grappling hook stuck in his shin, and Pyrrha had her rifle trained on Adam's head.

"Alright now, if no one wants to commune with the Lord today, I suggest _you_ ," Cole began, motioning to Pyrrha, "and _you_ ", he continued, now pointing to Adam, "lower your weapons. I will warn you, I am not a patient man."

"Fuck are you gonna do, shoot me?" Adam asked, smirking in spite of his head wound.

Cole responded by lowering his gun and firing it into the floor in front of Adam, the bullet ricocheting past Roderick's head so closely he could feel it, before aiming back at the Welshman.

"I might," Cole said, smirking right back at him. "I do think we could do with a few less mouths to feed."

Adam pressed a button on his gauntlet, retracting the grappling hook from Jaune's leg and raising both of his hands. Pyrrha lowered her gun in the same instant, and Jaune grabbed at his leg.

"So, you couldn't even keep it in for a day?" Roderick asked, almost shouting. "We have a hot op in two fucking days, these kids just got back here, and your response is to try and cap both of them?"

"And what in God's name did you do to yourself? Blood ain't supposed to be orange," Cole added, holstering his handgun.

Adam shrugged. "Needed a pick-me-up."

"We were training, and Adam attacked us both," Pyrrha explained.

"Oh, we saw all of it," Bradford said, coming through the door behind them. Roderick knew the man was pissed, but he was doing a fantastic job of hiding it. "And even if we hadn't, Fyodor let us know what was happening right after you left, Captain Jones. What the hell was your gameplan, here?"

Roderick immediately looked back at Fyodor, who'd taken to impersonating a beaten dog. "You knew this was going to happen?"

Fyodor nodded solemnly.

Adam looked between Fyodor and the door, still holding that smug expression, though his eyes betrayed that he was suddenly a lot less confident than he was before. "Well," he said, his voice unsteady at first. "I didn't expect him to actually get a hit in, for one…"

"You could have died, you fucking idiot!" Jerry shouted from the doorway. "You took some fucking alien steroids, and picked a fight with two kids who have fucking healing factors, swords, and a goddamn AT rifle! I'm surprised you didn't get fucking dismembered!"

"Well, dying isn't exactly the most unattractive option right now," Adam muttered, looking over at Pyrrha. "Rids me of practically all my problems."

"Yeah, what about the problem of losing one of our most experienced field ops?" Bradford asked. "What about the problem of you willingly doing something so stupid so you could go and chase a rumor. We're working on finding the Chosen's hideout, Adam, you don't have to go put yourself in harm's way just to speed up the process, and you most certainly don't have to stick an experimental drug in your veins and get yourself nearly killed over a grudge."

"This isn't about a bloody grudge, Central," Adam protested.

"Wait… this was _planned_?" Pyrrha asked, turning on her heel to glare at Fyodor. "You knew about this the entire time we've been here, and you only just now told us?"

"You mind your mouth," Cole warned her, stepping in front of Fyodor. "I'm sure Freddy had a damn good reason for goin' to the Commander first."

"No, she has a point," Fyodor said, looking apologetically at Pyrrha. "He's been deadset on this since before we even knew you were coming back. By the time I decided to tell someone, it was a bit too late to warn you."

"You could have, and should have, spoken to me or Jaune about it, considering we were being targeted," Pyrrha said, her fists clenching around her weapons.

"With all due respect, Nikos," Bradford said, "Adam wasn't doing this just to pick a fight with you, according to Corporal Sidorov. He was trying to get us to cut him loose so he could go and get captured by the Chosen, and find Murphy. He still thinks he's alive."

Pyrrha's expression didn't shift in the slightest, but a quick glance showed that Jaune seemed rather shocked by the revelation. His eyes met Adam's, the latter obviously having lost his already shaky confidence, while the former just looked at him like you'd look at a bum begging for change. Considering that just a minute ago, said 'bum' had put a metal grapple through his leg, that was rather sympathetic of him.

"You denied every single request to go out there and mount a search," Adam said, his voice cracking slightly. "Every one of 'em."

"Because Elena's people are working on getting us a damn lead, Adam, I can't have you going and fucking up their operation," Bradford explained. "I don't want to leave Murphy for dead, either, but in all honesty, I'd be surprised if this isn't just collecting a body."

"Doing dumb shit like this isn't going to bring us any closer to getting him back," Roderick said. "And picking a fight with Jaune and Pyrrha isn't going to bring Jack, or Bridget, or Cody, or Konnie back. What's the fucking point of this shit? Just to get kicked off a boat? Shit, if you'd have told me I'd have helped you sneak off myself."

"I get it, I get it, you all think I'm a fucking madman," Adam said, looking at Bradford. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm not kicking you off the ship," Bradford said. "The Assassin's already kidnapped and interrogated one of ours before, and she's likely done the same to Murphy. I don't care how hard you are, if you get the screws put to you hard enough, you end up snapping, and you've got valuable information that no one else on the ship has besides the Commander and myself."

Pyrrha opened her mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Cole raising his hand.

"Let the man speak, please," he said.

"As I was saying," Bradford continued, "you're too valuable to throw away. That being said, I don't know if I can trust you not to get yourself killed doing something else stupid on the next operation. I know how you feel about these kids, Adam, and I think the thought crossed all of our minds at some point that if they hadn't left, we'd still have a lot of good men, but we aren't the only ones who have a world to protect. Their objective was to go home, and they did. But when they had the chance, they came right back, and brought backup. If anything, you should be thanking them for having enough of a conscience to come back. They didn't have to. In all honesty, they shouldn't have. This isn't their fight."

"Well maybe they should have thought about that before showing off to ADVENT and getting them to ramp up their deployments," Adam said. "There's Muton squads in every major city now, Chrysalids practically crawling up our arses, Sectopods patrolling every single ADVENT base, and we can't even build that bloody Skulljack yet." He then looked over at Jaune, pointing down at the boy with a scowl. "They were prepared for _you_ , and because of that, they wiped the floor with _us_."

"I delayed the Skulljack project because of Tygan, Adam," Shen explained. "He said you'd be dead by next year without some form of stopgap medication, and the Overdrive Serum's the only thing we've got that might be able to help you."

Without warning, Ruby darted through the air and careened onto the deck, landing on the blade of a large, mechanical scythe as she surveyed the area, trying to take everything in. "Okay, who's Adam!?" she asked, immediately pointing at Roderick.

"Ruby, perhaps put the weapon away, we are in a delicate conversation," Fyodor said.

"At ease, Rose," Bradford ordered.

Ruby took an awkward step back and folded her weapon into some sort of 'compact' form, 'compact' being a relative term. The thing was still massive.

"Yes," Adam said, "We all know I'm a dead man, this is not news. One casualty shouldn't matter, the mission comes first."

"And yet here you are, putting yourself in harm's way for the sake of 'one casualty,'" Tygan said. "I do hope the irony is not lost on you, Captain."

Adam didn't respond, instead training his eyes on the door, as did Jaune and Pyrrha. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up. "Where's the Commander?"

"Inside. She wants to talk to you about this," Bradford said, before turning to Jaune. "And you, too. Later."


	32. Chapter 32

_Atlas Academy_

 _Headmaster's Office_

It had been hours since he'd spoken with Ozpin, yet General Ironwood's mind still wasn't quite comprehending what he'd been told.

The idea of life existing outside of Remnant's confines was one constantly debated by scientists from across all four Kingdoms, and there was never a conclusive answer. Dust, for all its infinitely varied uses, was completely inert outside of Remnant's atmosphere. The most they could do was examine the surface of the shattered moon, and Ironwood personally doubted that there was any life left on it after whatever cataclysm left it torn asunder.

And now here he was, one of only two men on Remnant who finally had the answer. There _was_ life out there, amongst the stars, and a whole other planet full of it. A planet without Grimm, yet engulfed in war all the same. It was all rather hard to believe, but then again, so was Salem, at first.

Ozpin had called each of the headmasters and the rest of his inner circle, but there was one familiar face not among the assembled. Qrow's absence was rather surprising—the man never missed an appearance, not even when drunk out of his mind. Ozpin refused to answer Ironwood's inquiries as to his location. As much as Ironwood didn't want to believe that Oz was hiding something from him, he wasn't making it easy.

Those questions had to wait. He'd been given a mission. While Theodore and Leonardo were bidden to simply tend to their own businesses, and to report any portals that opened in their respective Kingdoms; Ironwood had a tertiary task. Not only was he to defend Solitas, but he also had Atlas' top scientists working on finding a way to either open one of these portals themselves, or stabilize ones that had already opened.

Only he'd been told the truth of what was beyond those portals. Not Theo. Not Leo. Him, and him alone.

"General Ironwood, sir!" A voice called from outside his office. "Operative Sterling. I've got a report from Doctor Polendina's team."

Doctor Polendina? He'd just reported to Ironwood personally not even thirty minutes ago about Penny. It was next to impossible that the situation had evolved so quickly without it being drastic enough for another call.

"Come in, Operative," Ironwood replied, hitting the button on the bottom of his desk that unlocked the door. Sterling stepped inside, thumbing at his scroll nervously as shot a glance over his shoulder. Once the door closed, he visibly relaxed.

"Sorry, sir. You said this stuff was classified, and things have been really tense over there ever since the news broke," Sterling explained. "Anyway, Doctor Polendina wanted me to let you know he has a working theory on the nature of those portals. He'll give you his report shortly."

"How shortly, Operative?" Ironwood asked, raising an eyebrow. Odd that Pietro hadn't come to him directly, especially if it was something this big.

"He says that he's not sure about Mantle's cybersecurity, sir.."

"I'll have my people look into that when I can, we have a lot on our plates right now. Our classified communications are secure, I can tell you that much. If the good Doctor is worried, he has our encryption keys."

"Right, right…" Sterling didn't seem any more at ease.

"You're dismissed, Operative."

Sterling nodded, and exited the room. Brothers, the poor man worried too much. Then again, it wasn't just his ass on the line if there was a breach in security. Ironwood knew that feeling all too well. Once the doors closed, Ironwood immediately set about opening an encrypted channel to Pietro. If this was so important that he had a runner deliver the message, then he obviously had something big to report.

The main display, normally reserved for the world map or similarly large displays, now lit up with the image of Pietro Polendina, who seemed to be contentedly puttering away at something or another in his office in Mantle.

"Pietro?"

The old man started slightly, his walker rapidly pivoting towards the screen. Once their eyes met, relief crossed his features, and the old inventor smiled. "Ah, General. I suppose you got the message I sent you, then?"

"Operative Sterling came all the way from Mantle to deliver it," Ironwood replied. "I assumed it was important."

"It is, indeed. Tell me, is this a secure channel?"

"Our comms are encrypted and being spoofed throughout Atlas' private servers. No one will hear this conversation but us," Ironwood assured him.

"Right, right… anyhow, I just completed my analysis of the Scroll readings on that portal. Both sets of data indicated a massive Aura spike when bodies passed through, but _not_ from the registered owners of the Scrolls. No, these portals appear to be Semblance-esque projections from an unknown source of Aura," Pietro explained, pulling up a diagram that covered the top right corner of the screen. "See, the moment that the students approach, there's a spike in Aura levels that does not dissipate until, presumably, they pass through it. What is interesting is that before we lost signal, the Scroll did not note a complete loss of that foreign Aura projection. There seemed to be some sort of 'white noise' on the other side."

"Interesting," Ironwood replied. "Have you found a way to open up a similar portal? I have Specialist Schnee ready to deploy and hold one open until it can be properly stabilized."

"No, unfortunately." Pietro adjusted his glasses and swiped the image away, before swiping a series of documents onto the shared screen, all of which immediately began to download. "The reports are enclosed, but we didn't manage to find much of anything. Now, I'm more of a cybernetics and robotics man than an astrophysicist , but I don't think we're going to be able to open something up on our end. This was an entirely unique energy signature. Someone made these portals, General, and I have a feeling that any attempt at studying them will have to happen on their time."

"Right, right... " Ironwood sighed, pulling the documents up and giving them a quick scan. Sure enough, nothing but duds. Not a single instance of even getting a start on opening a portal. "Damn. What about communications?"

"Nothing as of yet. Doctor Nila's only getting static, but we'll continue attempting to reach those Scrolls."

"Let me know as soon as you succeed. As I said, everything is ready to cross the threshold as soon as we make a stable connection. I have my best operatives and a platoon-strength unit of AK-200s ready to deploy."

"Understood, General. Thank you for your time. I'll give you a status update on Penny next week."

"Please do." With that, Ironwood closed the call. Pietro was one of Atlas' most brilliant minds, even if he was getting up in age. Though he was right about his specialties, he sold himself far too short; he was just as good at leading a team of scientists as he was in his own field, regardless of what that team's objective was. That portal wasn't going to stay open without him.

He just hoped it would come soon. The longer they were without an exit, the longer Beacon's teams RWBY and JNPR would be stuck on the other side of it with no support, supplies, or infrastructure. Even if this 'XCOM' continued to protect them, it sounded like they were still in great danger.

* * *

 _Earth_

 _The Avenger_

Yang figured that these XCOM guys wanted help, they'd told RWBY and JNPR as much directly to their faces, but she'd barely even taken her shoes off and she was already being asked to saddle up with them. Not that she was going to complain about getting some action, but man, they must be desperate.

Fyodor was the one who called her up, and as it turns out, he was also the one in charge of the mission this go around. Just as well, from what it sounded like he was one of the few people on the ship that JNPR felt they could trust. That was a plus as far as Yang was concerned. However, something had been nagging at her from the moment the man rapped on the door of the Remnant resident's bunk room and demanded her and Weiss to accompany him.

"What in the name of the Brother Gods do you need four swords for?" Weiss asked, stealing the words from right out of Yang's mouth. Indeed, the moment the pair had stepped out of the door, the first thing Yang noticed was that Fyodor had a pair of strange-looking swords strapped to his hips. The hilts had a small extension at the end, though for what purpose, Yang couldn't deduce, and the points were split into two prongs with some sort of port in between them.

"Because I like to keep spares," Fyodor stated conservatively, resting his palm on the hilt of one of the swords.

"Yes, I can understand the merit of keeping a spare weapon on your person, but four? What could possibly go wrong that you would require not one, not two, but _three_ separate weapons? Your weapon designs look shoddy, but I was hoping they might be a bit more functional than that."

' _Oh, boy,'_ Yang thought to herself, ' _I guess old habits do die hard.'_

"The Arc Blades are actually _very_ well-made, considering our lack of resources, snizhka," Fyodor corrected her. "They're just… in the testing phase. We're not exactly an organized military with government backing anymore."

"Yes, a blind man could tell me that. Tell me, what part of these 'Arc Blades' is actually a 'blade'? I don't see a sharp edge on any of those things, and they don't even have a point. What exactly do you intend to do with those, bludgeon something to death?" Weiss asked, as haughty as the day Yang had met her. Fyodor seemed surprisingly patient with her, but Yang wasn't about to let Weiss test that patience if she could help it.

"Weiss, I think you're not giving these guys enough credit," Yang said. "They-"

"Yang, this is a serious matter. If it's a 'blade', where is the edge?"

Fyodor sighed, stopping dead in his tracks and turning around slowly, before dropping to a squat in front of Weiss and taking one of the swords off his hip. He smiled at her, in the way that only a man who wants the conversation to end as soon as possible could smile, and pointed at the edges of the weapon. "These are not sharp, because they are not the blade. The blade is a low-heat, high-voltage tesla array powered by a lithium-ion battery. It's like a taser, except I can cut you with it."

"With all due respect, that thing looks like it's going to fall apart if you breathe on it improperly, Weiss said, folding her arms. "Where do you even feed the Dust into it? How is any electricity going to be conducted without Electric Dust?"

"Why the fuck would I put dirt and debris in this?" Fyodor asked, his composure steadily cracking.

Weiss' eyes widened, shifting from the blade to Fyodor, then back to the blade, then to Yang. Yang shrugged her shoulders in response. This place was apparently pretty different from Remnant, so them not having Dust didn't really shock her. It would definitely make ammo consumption a problem, but she didn't need Ember Celica to be loaded to be lethal.

"No, you dolt, that's not what I was suggesting!" Weiss started, "I meant-"

"Weiss. I don't think they have Dust here," Yang explained, looking to Fyodor before continuing. "Right? Like, no Fire Dust, no Ice Dust, yadda yadda yadda?"

"No, the only dust on this ship is the shit that fills up your lungs every time you touch any of the ancient alien garbage on board," Fyodor replied. "What do you mean by 'Dust'?"

"Our weapons are powered by Dust crystals with various attributes," Weiss explained, regaining her bearings. "My Myrtenaster carries a variety of Dust payloads, for example. If you don't have Dust, how do your weapons even function?"

"Like I told you just 30 fucking seconds ago," Fyodor explained, "the swords run on a lithium-ion battery that sends a charge to two emitters. There's a vent along the spine of the blade that forces the low-heat, high-voltage plasma out of the sides of the weapon and over these little metal plates on the side. These do have cutting edges, if you swing hard enough, but thanks to your friends who came before you, we decided to try something else with them. Ideally, you never have to see that."

A short pause followed, before Weiss broke the silence with a bemused 'hmph.'

"Is that it?" Fyodor asked, rising to his full height once more. "I like to be early for the briefing if I can, and you've wasted a good amount of my time."

"I apologize if you're offended, but I simply wanted to better understand what I'm working with here. Your technology level is obviously a fair bit behind that of Remnant," Weiss explained. As haughty and obnoxious as the wording was, Yang knew that she genuinely meant no offense. At least, she thought she knew that. "If there was a means to get back in contact with my father and siphon Dust here, maybe-"

"I do not want to hear about your daddy or his Dust, we have a _job_ to do, rozpeshchenyy dytyna, come on, we're already too late for my liking." With that interruption, Fyodor started off down the hall, his patience finally at its limit. Weiss seemed indignant that he walked off while she was in the middle of trying to offer assistance, in her own Weissy way. Yang simply sighed, following after him, with Weiss bringing up the rear in a huff.

"I was only trying to offer a solution," she said.

"No need to try and convince me," Yang replied, watching as Fyodor stopped at a door and slammed his fist against it twice.

"Cole! We're going!"

There was no response on the other side of the door that Yang could hear, but after a few seconds, it opened to reveal Cole, who had much shorter hair than when Yang had seen him previously. He had some sort of big gauntlet on his right arm, far bigger than Ember Celica, with what appeared to be some sort of fuel tank on the side, marked with a fire hazard sign. ' _Flamethrower gauntlet. Not bad.'_

Weiss didn't offer her 'advice' for the rest of the trip, and Fyodor got a hold of Jerry and Phil without incident. From there, it was straight to Grace's office.

Once they arrived, Fyodor peeked in, and was evidently bid to enter. The rest followed, with Yang bringing up the rear. As it turns out, Pyrrha and Jaune were already there, sitting in front of Grace's desk, with Pyrrha looking unusually agitated.

"You've got quite a team picked out there, Fyodor," Grace said.

"I figured it best if we bring a couple more of the kids along," he replied.

"Solid plan, but we got a problem—we don't have any idea what they can do. Weiss and Yang, right?" Grace turned her attention to Weiss first. "You have 'Semblances' like Pyrrha does?"

"As a matter of fact, we do," Weiss replied. "Mine allows me to create 'Glyphs' that can levitate objects or force them to move in certain directions, slow down or speed up time in a localized area, or create platforms for my team to walk on in unsteady terrain. I can also use specialized 'summons' that assist me in combat."

"That sounds awful useful," Cole stated, nodding his head.

"Yes, very good, you—wait, run that part about 'time' back again?" Fyodor seemed dumbstruck, looking at Weiss like she'd just proclaimed herself the will of the Brothers made manifest.

"I can slow down or speed up time within range of my glyphs," Weiss repeated.

Phil let off a quiet whistle. "Bordel de merde…"

"What's the catch?" Jerry asked. "There's gotta be a catch."

"I need Dust to perform most, if not all of these feats. I can still perform certain summons and utilize certain glyphs without it, but I won't be able to manipulate time or levitate objects without Electric and Gravity Dust."

"Well, unfortunately, we have no such thing," Grace said. "If that's the case, I'm giving you a direct order from the top, Weiss– do not use those functions unless absolutely necessary to complete critical mission objectives or to save a life in the field. Once you run out, you're out until we open a bridge for you to get back home. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Excellent. Yang?" Grace's attention now turned to the blonde brawler, and she couldn't help but feel a little put on the spot. Weiss went into all that detail about how great and useful her Semblance was, and here she was with…

"Well," Yang replied, softly punching her palm and cracking her knuckles leisurely. "I hit. Hard."

"That's it?" Phil asked. "You hit things hard?"

"Yeah. Really, really hard. And if I get hit, I hit that much harder."

"You're a goddamn human perpetual motion machine," Jerry noted, nodding his head slowly. "Freddy, you're a genius."

"I didn't know what they could do until just now, honestly," Fyodor said, attempting to maintain some semblance of modesty. "I picked Yang because she looked tough."

"Good pair of eyes you got there, cap'n!" Yang acknowledge, flashing the man a grin. A little ego boost was nice once in awhile.

"And me?" Weiss asked.

"I don't know. I had a feeling that there was something off about you," Fyodor explained. "Turns out I was right. You're a bougie freak of nature."

"Indeed," Cole agreed. "Yet to meet anyone else that can tell time to bend over."

"Well, I suppose I'll take that as a compliment," Weiss said, a bit prickly. "Anyhow, what exactly did you call us in here for?"

"A briefing," Grace replied, hitting a few keys on the computer at her desk. In response, the wall behind her split open to reveal a screen that extended outwards, and lit up with a map of some sort of city. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the ADVENT Tokyo Metroplex. We're gonna be inserting near Edogawa and beating a path to our primary objective, the old Shūbun Dynamics building. An organization called the Think Tank is sheltering an important VIP there that needs extraction, and ADVENT's looking for him all over Eastern Tokyo. If we don't get there soon, they're gonna dust him."

"Who's the VIP?" Jerry asked, leaning against the wall behind Jaune and Pyrrha. Yang noticed Pyrrha moving her hand just slightly, her Aura flashing around it dimly as Jerry's hand gently opened and closed. Something was going on there, evidently.

"Our target for extract is Dr. Klaus Reiben, graduated top of his class at RWTH Aachen in Germany," Grace explained, pulling up an image of the man in question. He certainly didn't look much like any doctor Yang would want to see– he was a grizzly looking man with a skeletal beard, a noticeable scar on his left cheek, and a sloppy, barely-trimmed mop of black hair. "Dr. Reiben's the Think Tank's main authority on intrauniversal astrophysics and string theory."

"English?" Cole asked, rolling his eyes.

"The guy deals with wormholes and portals," Jerry answered, "or at least the science behind them. So, that's the play then, Commander? We're trying to get this guy's knowledge?"

"Exactly," Grace said with a wan smile. "Dr. Reiben has agreed to work with us once he's extracted. Once he arrives, I'll have him explain his latest findings, but needless to say, I think we might be onto something big here. That being said, the problem is getting to him. We were planning to do this quietly, but ADVENT has scaled up their patrols and is hitting every known Think Tank safehouse in Tokyo. They don't know where he is, but one of the doors they're looking to kick down just happens to be the safehouse he's at currently. The Think Tank doesn't have any safe area to evac him to within an actionable distance, so they're asking us to make the save."

"Do they have assets on site?" Phil asked.

"Don't know," Grace replied. "Due to the nature of the op, we're going in light and fast. Spider Suits only, keep your excess gear to a minimum. The safehouse is on the 4th floor of the main offices, but ADVENT's gonna be kicking down the doors by the time we get you there. Firebrand will decide your insertion point by eye. Your best bet is to grapple up the side of the building. Kids, there are some wrist-mounted grappling hooks in the armory. Make sure you each grab one before you get on board the Skyranger."

"Got it," Jaune replied.

Yang couldn't exactly mount something to her wrists while wearing Ember Celica, but at least Weiss' glyphs gave her a method of getting up the walls. The look Weiss immediately gave her made it clear the heiress had the same idea.

"Any more questions before we mount up?" Grace asked, turning specifically to Weiss and Yang. "I know you haven't really been told much about how we operate, or why we're doing what we're doing, so I want you to understand this is a no bullshit zone. I'll answer any questions you have."

"Why exactly are you looking for a specialist in wormhole theory?" Weiss asked.

"You tryin' to send us home already?" Yang asked, faux-offended. "We just got here."

"Well, about that," Grace started, pulling up a file and opening it to reveal a spectrogram. "Dr. Reiben sent us a message earlier this morning. Take a listen."

With the click of a key, Dr. Reiben began to speak.

" _This is_ _Rübezahl. Commander Cheng, I do believe I've finally figured it out. It has taken me years, so many goddamn years, but my God I've finally figured it out._ _The aliens have been using what appear to be using some sort of tethers to allow for rapid intrauniversal wormhole travel. It's the only way to explain how they travel that fast. Regardless, I'm sure you already knew that, that's not what's so exciting to me. You see, the aliens have scaled back their deployment in the past few months, and now I know why- the portals are no longer 'tethered'! Their stability is completely shattered! We're only seeing consistent alien activity in certain sectors- the Amazon jungle, the Arctic Circle, and other such isolated areas. The aliens aren't even bothering with portaling in those super-aliens of my late colleague's to deal with your operations anymore- all of their reinforcements are locally stationed units, and they're not being reinforced at nearly as quick a rate. Something got between their portals and their bases of operation, and I believe the children may have something to do with it. If you would be so kind as to hurry to meet with me, I would like to discuss this matter more in depth personally."_

With that, the file automatically closed, and Grace turned back to face Weiss. "Does that answer your questions?"

"Somewhat. So, this doctor believes that our arrival has stymied these 'aliens' you've been fighting?"

"Exactly," Grace replied. "And considering the kind of stuff you can do, that's the best thing that's ever happened to us. You're the kick in the ass we need. That being said, we'd like to get you home when your business here is done, and Dr. Reiben's gonna help us do that, and figure out where the aliens are running the show from. Two birds, one stone."

"Sounds good to me," Yang said, nodding her approval. "Guess we're gonna crack some alien heads, then. When are we getting started?"

"Right now, if there's no other questions. We're burning valuable hours here," Grace replied, turning her attention to the XCOM guys one by one, stopping at Jerry. "How's your hand doing? I know the adjustment's been rough, and we still don't have any MELD."

"I get by," Jerry replied, looking to Pyrrha with a smirk, which she returned in kind.

"Good to hear it. Fyodor, you're green to go. I'll let Reiben know you're saddling up."

Fyodor nodded, and started heading for the door. "Alright, let's get this done."


	33. Chapter 33

It was a quiet ride.

Jerry had noticed that ever since things started going downhill, there was a lot less talking on the Skyranger. Nowadays it was less like they were flying out to an operation and more like they were headed to a funeral. There wasn't any banter, no back-and-forth. Hell, the only person talking now was Cole. A man of faith who prayed before every operation he went on.

A part of Jerry thought Cole was stupid for still having faith in something bigger. A part of him envied it.

"Praise be to the Lord, my Rock, who trains my hands for war," Cole muttered, barely above a whisper, "and my fingers for battle. My salvation and my fortress, my stronghold and deliverer, my shield in whom I place my faith, who leads the footsteps of righteous men, and defends the innocent…"

He could almost hear Fyodor's eyes rolling next to him, but Jerry had other things to worry about than faith or creed. His hand was still acting up. Grace had said that without some alien substance called 'Meld', it would be almost impossible to ensure that the hand functioned seamlessly. Worst part was, they had no way of getting said Meld. If it weren't for a good friend looking over his shoulder as of late, he wouldn't trust himself to be a triggerman at all. Too many ops nearly went south because of his hand being inconsistent.

Said friend gently shifted her hand across the Skyranger's aisle from him, Aura shimmering slightly as an invisible force reached out and held his offending limb steady. It was a strange feeling, truth be told, to basically have a walking magnetic field watching your back, but Jerry wouldn't complain about it when it was doing so much for him.

Pyrrha's eyes met his. She smiled awkwardly, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He smiled back, and mouthed 'thanks.'

"...Cast forth lightning and scatter my enemies, Lord," Cole continued, a less-than upbeat accompaniment to their little moment of quiet bonding. "Let fly your arrows and decimate them. Send your hand from above, rescue us and deliver us from the hands of the alien, who speak only in lies, and in their right hand bear wickedness."

'Does he ever shut up?' Yang mouthed from beside Pyrrha.

'Not really,' Jerry replied, his smile involuntarily widening. Fyodor had always told him the first ride people had with Cole was the funniest, and this time was no exception. He always had his pre-battle ritual, and woe betide if it was interrupted.

"And O Lord, you who shepherd the innocent and give salvation unto sinners, cast your hand over these children. Strengthen their arm, O Lord, and fortify their hearts for the coming storm. Shower them in your abounding mercy-"

"This is your stop, gang, everybody off the ride!" Firebrand interrupted from the cockpit. The door to the Skyranger started to open, revealing a grey and dreary midday sky. Already, Jerry could see ADVENT dropships circling around the city. "I can't loiter, we got a LOT of company."

"God _dammit,_ woman…" Cole grumbled, cocking his gauntlet and rising to his feet. The Multiple Munition Arm Cannon was a design that Team JNPR had somewhat inadvertently inspired; after Dr. O'Connor had gotten a handful of the business end of Pyrrha's shifting spear, he considered working the tech into a gauntlet, mounting three different weapon systems in one. Jerry hadn't seen the things tested yet, but he didn't have high hopes. How you would fit a rocket launcher, a shotgun, and a flamethrower into one gauntlet, he had no idea.

Cole was the first to disembark, and Jerry followed. The rest of the team dropped behind him one-by-one, with Jaune bringing up the rear, wisely using the ropes this time instead of just crashing into the ground like a wrecking ball. The Shūbun Dynamics building stood just across the street from the rooftop they'd landed on. Unfortunately, it seemed like the 'abandoned' old facility wasn't quite abandoned anymore; a line of ADVENT interceptors at least ten wide sat in front of the building, set up in a wall of metal stretching halfway down the street.

"That's a _lot_ of fuzz," Jerry noted, looking to Fyodor. "Front door's compromised. We're not getting in that way."

"Yes, that much is obvious," Fyodor agreed. "Firebrand, how's the flyover looking? Any good insertion point?"

 _"Nada. There's no quiet way in, you're gonna have to go in hard and loud."_

"Well, that's why we brought the Big Mac," Fyodor replied. "Cole, you're our resident evangelist Let's go do some ministry. Jerry, sync Mercy to our signal."

Cole smiled, and Jerry watched as the MMAC clanked, shifted, and extended to reveal a long, blowpipe-esque projector extending past Cole's elbow, a metal plate shielding the skin from it. That must be the rocket launcher component. Pretty impressive.

"Good tidings and great joy, Sergeant." Cole said, before leaping off the roof to the ground below. That was a hell of a jump, but the Spider Suit's exoskeleton would help deaden the impact, if only a little bit

"That guy freaks me out," Yang noted. "Am I alone in this? Am I the only one who finds this guy a bit creepy?"

"I couldn't agree more," Weiss said.

"Seconded," Jaune added. "Er… thirded."

"Cut the chatter, let's do this," Fyodor said, following Cole off the roof. Phil, ever silent in the face of the rest of the team's banter, followed, leaving only Jerry and the kids. Quickly, Jerry pulled M4-RC off his back, the GREMLIN quickly springing to life and extending its repulsors to float in front of him, chirping excitedly.

"Synced, little lady?"

The GREMLIN blinked twice in response.

"Alright, alright…" Jerry's attention turned to the street below as Yang and Weiss jumped down, the latter using what was obviously one of her 'Glyphs' to aid her descent, almost like a springboard. "God, I hate heights," Jerry mumbled under his breath as he jumped off the edge after them.

Landing was as rough as he expected it to be, and his attempt at rolling to his feet ended up as more of an awkward tumble onto his side. His gun clattered in front of him uselessly as his metal hand failed to brace his weight, causing him to land harshly on his elbow. A jolt of pain went up his arm all the way into his back.

 _'I hate this fucking hand even more.'  
_  
Jaune was the next to land, stumbling to a stop next to Jerry, eyes filled with concern. "You okay?"

"Just chop my hand off, Jaune. I'd rather live with the nub," Jerry grunted, forcing himself up to his feet. "Let's go."

Jerry struggled to his knees, slamming his metal fist into the concrete in frustration before grabbing his gun was the third time it failed on him in the middle of a bad landing. He'd get Shen to take a look at it again after the operation.

Jerry could hear Pyrrha landing behind him, far more gracefully than he or Jaune had. How she and Weiss moved so well in heels, he would never understand. In the now, there was an operation to focus on, so, back his focus went. Cole was storming ahead of the rest of the group, arm cocked back and lined up with the blockade.

"Firebrand," Fyodor called out. "How is ADVENT presence inside the building? Do you have a scope?"

 _"Back side of the building has a large glass pane, I can see two full Riot Control squads- Stun Lancers and Regulars. They're sweeping and clearing the building, but I'm seeing some dead ADVENT, too. There might be traps or allied personnel in the building, so watch yourselves."_

"Anything on the front end?"

 _"Nothing that I can see, just those cars."_

"Got it. We're going to try and scale the walls with our hooks, grab the VIP, then extract on the roof. Can you facilitate?"

 _"I can try, but ADVENT's gonna be hot on your ass the moment you blow your cover. Better make it quick."_

"Got it, Cole's about to break the police line. Commander, you have a feed?"

 _"Got you on scope, Sergeant,"_ Grace replied. _"Give 'em hell."_

"Understood. Alright everyone, hope you've got those hooks on!"

Jerry looked over to Jaune, who was checking his own wrist and fiddling around with the grapple gun. It wasn't armed or spooled, if he tried to fire the thing, it would just lock up.

"Red button on the top, Jaune," Jerry said.

Jaune smiled nervously and hit said button, the hook cocking back and opening up immediately in response.

"Attaboy."

With that, Jerry's attention turned to the police line. Cole slid to a knee, stopping himself dead as he braced himself for the MMAC's infamous recoil… and threw a punch. The ensuing flash of the rocket firing was nothing compared to the impact, as the rocket smashed into the hood of one of the ADVENT interceptors, sending it up in a ball of mangled steel and fire, and knocking its neighbors in the line flying to either end of the street. Jerry could already see ADVENT scrambling out of the untouched cars to try and discern what just happened, which meant they had a limited amount of time to get up the wall before the element of surprise wore out.

"Time to go!" Fyodor shouted. "Close the distance and aim for the roof, use your momentum to kick through the windows. The suit's exoskeleton will carry the impact."

Jerry watched as Fyodor extended his arm and fired the hook, sending him flying towards the building. That was a lot of moving towards a very high point. Jerry was not a fan. Still, there was no other reasonable way to get up there in , Jerry raised his arm, and fired. After a few seconds, the line went taut, and Jerry felt himself being flung towards the building at a bone-rattling speed, towards what appeared to be a narrow office hallway.

' _Okay fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck feet out feet out feet out FEET OUT!_ '

Jerry had barely gotten his knees up by the time he hit the window, but the glass broke all the same. The landing afterwards was less than ideal too. Due to the angle he hit at, he fell backwards, landing flat on his back on a pile of broken glass that he felt digging into his arms.

As if life wasn't done with him yet, Phil slammed into the window next to him, sending more glass flying into his face, barely missing his eyes. Yang followed after him, having apparently decided that the proper method of ascent was to fly using the recoil of her weapons, with Cole bringing up the rear. On the other side of him, he could hear Jaune break through his window with a yelp as he slammed into a door across the hall.

"You good?" Jerry shouted, wiping the glass off his face and arm and forcing himself up to his feet. His right arm was bleeding, but it wouldn't cripple him.

"I'm okay!" Jaune called back.

"So, tell me, young lady," Cole started, pointing at Yang, "Did you just fly up here using fuckin' _shotgun gauntlets_?"

Yang smiled and shrugged, leading Cole to sigh as he grimaced at the MMAC. "Damn, I feel useless."

"Recoil must be a bitch," Phil said, before turning to Fyodor. "Where's the target, Sergeant?"

"Safe room's three turns down the hallway," Fyodor replied. "Let's roll."

* * *

" _Doctor Reiben, my team just entered through the fourth floor window,"_ Grace said, the comms static growing more intense with every passing moment. Reiben knew ADVENT would start trying to jam the signal as soon as they realized they'd found him, but he'd thought he'd have a bit more time to prepare. More time to gather his research. More time to…

No matter. There would be plenty of time to deliberate his findings with 'Dr Tygan' later.

"Very well, I'm gathering my belongings. Tell them to knock," Reiben said, grabbing the series of flash drives he'd had sequestered all around the room. The problem with ADVENT's centralized network is that even with firewalls and proxies, it was only a matter of time until they got a trace on him. It was always safer to shove everything onto portable drives and keep it close to hand in case he had to bounce, like he was doing now.

 _"Remember, Doctor, my team is highly trained for this kind of operation. Just keep your head down and-"_

"Surely you know more about me than that, Grace," Reiben said, turning his attention from his papers and files to something more… personal. The shotgun that he'd been given by one of his associates in the event of a breach sat on his desk, next to an empty bottle of whiskey. He'd forgotten where he'd put the box of shells, but it would show up eventually. Ideally, he'd never need it. "How far from my position are they?"

 _"Seconds away."_

"Right. Almost ready to go."

Reiben stuffed the flash drives into his pants and jacket pockets, and adjusted his tie. It was going to be a very _intense_ going away party.

 _"Doctor Reiben, this is Sergeant Sidorov, XCOM. We're outside your safe room now. Open the door,"_ a distinctly Slavic voice called over the comms. Grace must have handed them access to the channel.

"One moment!"

Reiben grabbed the shotgun, and hit the button on his console that unlocked the doors. "Come, quickly. Shut the door behind you."

The doors swung open to reveal a far larger extraction team than he'd been made aware of. His handlers had told him to expect 4. He was currently seeing 8, half of whom were dressed… rather oddly, given that they were part of a paramilitary organization.

"Doctor Reiben," Sidorov said, stepping into the room. The man looked to be about the Doctor's age. Not surprising—many men who'd survived the old war had turned to resisting the new regime, though few of that breed remained so defiant as the two of them, he'd wager. "We're here to extract you."

"Yes, you picked a wonderful time," Reiben replied. "I'm almost ready to go. Just need to find my ammo…"

"That won't be necessary, Doctor," one of the soldiers stated, a hulking behemoth of a man with a thick Burgundian accent. "We're plenty armed, trust me."

"Well, I'm afraid that since I just met you, I'm not going to be much trusting right now," Reiben stated, turning his attention to the four distinctly non-military personnel with them. Their states of dress… varied. Two of them, at least, wore the beginnings of armor, but one was simply wearing a long dress coat, and the other a long sleeved top and slacks. They were all armed with various melee weapons, including, in the case of the girl with the dress, an ornate rapier.

"What the fuck is this?" Reiben asked, pointing at the girl in the dress in particular.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" the girl replied, voice laced with venom.

"Proof that your theories have some damn substance, now let's get moving. Command's getting psionic spikes in the immediate area," a soldier with a metal hand interrupted, taking a step in front of the girl. "Somebody wants you dead."

"Wait… my theories… you mean…" Reiben looked over the four children, then at the four soldiers, then at the children again. " _Mein_ _gott_ , you're serious."

"Oh, we're dead serious, Doctor," the last of the XCOM men replied. "Miracles do happen in this day and age."

The ammo could wait. The sooner he got out of this building, the sooner he could start asking these children questions. This wasn't a miracle, this was an absolute paradigm shift—what his colleagues had called the stuff of science fiction and fantasy, Reiben now could see with his own eyes. He had witnessed something completely unprecedented in human history, and he'd predicted it, like Nostradamus of old.

 _'Gott in himmel, I'm a FUCKING GENIUS.'_

"Very well, then, we should probably get moving," he agreed, tossing the shotgun to the side. "I've collected all the data I have, it's all on the drives on my person. Once I'm on board the _Avenger_ , we can discuss the fruits of my labor."

"Just don't get yourself shot," the big Frenchman responded.

Sidorov nodded, pointing at each of the XCOM team in turn, starting with the man with the metal hand, "Hall, Richard, and Cole." He then pointed to the children. "Schnee, Xiao Long, Nikos, and Arc. Stay behind us. It's likely that the aliens sent their Assassin to come and make sure we don't extract you."

"Wonderful, I'm most certainly glad to feel important," Reiben said. "Where are we going?"

"Roof," Sidorov replied. "Our transport—"

 _"Yeah, about that…"_ A female voice interrupted over the comm channel. _"Freddy? Your_ _ **best friend**_ _just showed up on the fucking roof."_

Sidorov didn't respond immediately, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"You've gotta be fucking joking," Hall replied. "Do we have an alternate extraction point?"

"Why change our path?" One of the children asked, a girl with hair the color of blood. "We've beaten her before."

"Yeah, and we lost two men and my hand." Hall said, pointing at his metal hand.

"Let's try and get up there," Fyodor said. "Cole. CQC protocols. Firebrand, where are the ADVENT?"

 _"On their way to your position."_

"Too bad for them."

Cole fiddled with a gauntlet on his right arm, which proceeded to extend at the front to reveal a series of three short metal barrels. Meanwhile, Richard lowered his and a large riot shield extended. Sidorov pulled two of what appeared to be swords off of his hips, swinging them downward to split them open and reveal a thin jet of superheated plasma.

"So _that_ 's what the Chrysaor does…" Cole muttered.

"See, Schnee? Earth technology," Sidorov said, cutting his eyes at the girl in question. She simply scoffed at him.

And to think, this was the team of 'professionals' sent to rescue him. At least it was better than that time in Halle.

* * *

Yang wasn't sure what this alien 'Assassin' was all about, or why everyone seemed so spooked by it, but she wasn't going to buckle at the thought of a challenge. As such, the moment they left Doctor Reiben's safe room, she was at the front of the charge. They could be afraid of a fight if they wanted, but Yang felt good about her chances. According to Nora, people from Remnant had a natural strength advantage over people from Earth, and that was before things like Aura or her Semblance came into play.

If Pyrrha was able to take down this Assassin, Yang could totally do it too.

"So what exactly is the plan on how to deal with it this time?" Phil asked. "I hope it's better than Go Home."

"We're ready for her this time. We know she's here, and we have surprise on our side," Fyodor replied. "She likely doesn't know that JNPR has returned yet, and even if she does, she likely isn't expecting Yang or Weiss to be with them. Jerry, how's it looking behind us?"

"Looking good so far, but it sounds like contact's coming," Jerry replied. "Reiben, please tell me you rigged the place."

"Oh, don't worry. They've been having a hell of a time getting up here, and they'll have a hell of a time yet," the doctor responded. "Oh, and, uh… make sure you take the grenade off the roof access door before you go up."

"Grenade off the-" Jerry trailed off, before groaning loudly. "Fuck's sake. Fuck's fucking sake."

Yang suddenly had a bright idea.

"You know, I don't think I will. I got an idea," Yang said. "Hey, Doc, how big is this grenade? We talking 'ouch my leg' big, or 'say goodbye to your house' big?"

"Leaning more towards the former but a bit bigger," Reiben responded.

"Alright then. I'm gonna have to borrow that then."

"Yang, please tell me you're not about to do what I think you're about to do," Jaune said.

"Oh, Vomit Boy, I'm doing _exactly_ what you think I'm about to do."

"I do believe that's going to kill you," Cole stated conservatively. "Just a thought."

"You've not seen this Aura shit at work," Jerry responded. "I don't think it's a great idea either, but something tells me it's gonna work out fine."

"Yang, I swear to the Brothers above if you blow yourself up," Weiss scolded her.

"Weiss. Chill. I got this."

"Something tells me I'm going to regret allowing this…" Fyodor muttered.

The roof access wasn't far ahead, and Yang could see the grenade, tied the door at the upper corner. It appeared to be attached by some sort of thin wire, which meant that the moment she opened the door, it would start ticking down.

"Alright everyone, stand back! Xiao Long is about to do something extremely stupid for reasons beyond my feeble mortal comprehension," Fyodor said, putting Reiben between himself and Phil, who was facing back down the hall.

One last time, Yang weighed the action she was about to take in her mind. Was it a bit stupid? Probably. Was it risky? Most definitely.

Did it have the potential to be _awesome?_

 _'Helllllll yeah.'_

With that, Yang ran forward and kicked the door open, the wire snapping from the force. Yang immediately grabbed the grenade out of midair, and tucked it into her stomach. "Got it!"

"Fire in the hole!" Fyodor shouted. "Everyone down!"

"This is a stupid idea!" Phil protested.

Three.

Two.

One.

The explosion _hurt._ It was like a small car had been driven straight into Yang's face, but it didn't break her Aura. The sheer force sent her flying backwards towards the rest of the group, where she felt _someone_ catch her. If they said anything, she couldn't hear it over the ringing in her ears.

As soon as the pain subsided enough for Yang to move with something resembling ease, she smashed her fists together and fired up her Semblance. She'd like to see this 'Assassin' try and take her down now. Hearing was overrated anyway. Her Aura would repair the damage.

"I'm okay!" she said. "Let's go!"

Yang started off towards the stairs, sure that the others would be following. She could see a few flashes of red light against the walls, and turned to find Phil hiding behind his shield while Jerry fired over him at two of those 'ADVENT', both of whom had some sort of batons on their back and far less armor than the ones out front. As if on cue, she was starting to hear clearly again.

"-king hell, they're _moving_ ," Jerry said, ducking behind Phil to reload.

"Get to the roof, we're right behind you!" Phil ordered.

"Her hair is on _fire_ , Sergeant," Cole stated, dumbfounded. "She's on fire."

Yang nodded and ran up the stairs, coming face to face with a tall, purple-skinned humanoid in black and red armor, who was immediately swinging her sword directly for Yang's head.

' _That must be the 'Assassin'.'_

"You know, I thought you'd be a bit smaller," Yang said, the sword bouncing harmlessly off her Aura. "Ah well."

With that, Yang threw a right hook that missed the mark by a good few inches. The follow up was much closer, giving the Assassin only the thinnest of margins to dodge. Her followup left straight was far less generous, sending the Assassin flying a good few feet to the other side of the roof.

"Hey, uh, Firebrand?" Yang said, turning on her comms again. "I got your roof problem. Go ahead and get over here."

" _You sure about that, Xiao Long? It looks like to me- wait, are you on FUCKING FIRE?"_

"Yes, but also no. Just get over here."

 _"I don't know what the fuck you mean by that, but you know what? Fine by me."_

The Assassin, meanwhile, was struggling up to her feet, straightening her jaw ."You weren't with the others before… another one of these strange children XCOM seems to be relying on as of late. Tell me, child, what do you have to gain from siding with a doomed species?"

"Fun," Yang replied, cracking her knuckles. "Knocking your head off your shoulders seems like a good start."

"You can try." With that, the Assassin raised her sword once more, and dragged it across the ground, throwing up a wave of purple and black energy that surged towards Yang. In response, she threw her right into the wave, dispersing it with a single blast of Ember Celica, before firing off another with her left. The Assassin barely blocked the shot, the impact turning her just enough so that Yang could close the distance with a left to the gut, and a right to the back, the former of which produced a mighty _crack_. The Assassin couldn't even stand, dropping to her knee and reaching for the sheath on her back, which had begun to extend and form into some sort of rifle. Not that it was going to do her any good in this situation.

"I tried," Yang stated with a grin, and threw one last heavy right hand, firing a shell from Ember Celica. The impact of flesh and fist was crunchier than she expected, but not wholly out of the norm. What surprised her was how little resistance she felt after the initial impact. Even Grimm, which evaporated after a big enough hit, offered more of a shock down her arm during a solid punch. The next thing that surprised her was a very light impact across the entire front of her aura, obscuring her vision and causing her to hesitate before she followed her punch up with anything else.

As Yang wiped her face and opened her eyes, she found some kind of macabre modern art piece where the Assassin had just been. A small pool of orange—Yang thought it was blood. But it didn't really _look_ like blood—spread out beneath her feet, but a massive splatter of the same stuff went across the roof and over the awning, and likely even into the street. In the place where the two patches of color met was a scattered, shattered pile of armor and the sheath-gun.

' _Brothers, did I just…'_

"Uh… these things have bones. Right?" she asked no one in particular, looking at the orange film covering her hands and dripping onto her boots.

Yang heard a loud whistle from behind her, turning to find a dumbstruck Jerry looking at his own metal hand.

"I'm gonna give you space from now on. At least three feet."

Yang shook her head, trying to clear the image that had been burned into her psyche long enough to focus on the task at hand. "Hey, Firebrand, we're ready to go!"

 _"Is my rooftop_ _ **actually**_ _clear? I'm nearly there."_

"Yeah, Assassin's dead."

" _Very_ dead," Jerry added.

" _Alright, I'm on the way. You know the drill, VIP first."  
_

Comms closed, and Yang turned fully to Jerry. "You guys need any help? How's it looking back there?"

"Fine. ADVENT's bugging out. As soon as they saw Jaune and Pyrrha, they booked it. No idea why," Jerry explained, before calling back down the stairs. "Yeah, we're done here!"

"Huh. Weird." Yang shrugged her shoulders. "Glad, though, less work for me."

"I certainly can't disagree, but ADVENT never retreats—they regroup. We need to break, and quick."

The rest of the team followed Jerry up the stairs, each of them in turn looking at the stain that had once been the Assassin. Jaune and Pyrrha turned a deadly shade of pale, Phil gave a harsh whistle, Fyodor, Reiben and Weiss both cringed, and Cole… _smiled_.

"Love to see it," the man said quietly, giving Yang a thumbs up. "Absolutely love it."

" _Gott_ , you're a sadist," Reiben muttered.

Yang didn't see what there was to like. It was finally registering in her head that not only had she straight up killed a sentient being, even if it was one that wanted her dead. She turned said being into a puddle of bloody paste at her feet and a massive orange stain in front of her. She'd done it effortlessly.

And she'd **enjoyed** it.

Yang wasn't expecting to see that salad she'd had right before this mission so soon. Then again, she hadn't expected to paint the roof in blood.

So she painted it with the contents of her stomach.


	34. Chapter 34

Try as she might, Yang could not get the events of the past 24 hours out of her head.

She wasn't sure what she was thinking, looking back. Grabbing the grenade was a dumb enough thing, but it was in-character for her. She tended to make such rash decisions on the fly, and it had worked out in the end. She'd beaten herself up enough to charge her Semblance, and she was able to take out the Assassin with zero effort. She'd kept everyone safe, everyone was going home alive, way to go Yang, you saved the day.

That was something to be proud of.

That wasn't what Yang had been proud of in the moment. What Yang had been proud of was the ugly orange stain on the roof that splattered the pavement all the way across the street. She'd been proud that she'd done the closest thing realistically possible to erasing something from existence. She'd been proud that she'd killed something. Not a Grimm, a living, sentient being. Even if it was one that wanted to harm her.

That wasn't something to be proud of.

The 'Guerilla Tactics School', as XCOM's guys put it, was more of a gym than any kind of 'school' she'd seen, but it was plenty sufficient for her needs as she slugged a punching bag over and over again, the bag swinging almost into the wall with the force of her punches. Nothing on this ship was built for her, or for any of RWBY or JNPR for that matter. Pyrrha'd told her about the time Jaune punched Declan, and concussed him with just one hit.

Jaune.

Noodly, string bean Jaune.

If he could hit that hard here, Yang could probably kill with one hand. Come to think of it, she had.

"You got a lot on your mind, don't you?" a concerned voice called out from the door. Yang quickly turned her head as a looping hook landed, sending the bag spinning in a wide arc. It was that Eric guy that Blake had rescued from the woods. He seemed to be in a lot better spirits than before, at least, and most of his lighter wounds had completely healed. Shocking, considering it hadn't been that long since they'd come to Earth, but maybe the portal shenanigans were having an effect on his body. Yang didn't know—she'd didn't know anything about portals, her bit was rescuing the people that did.

"Nah, not really," Yang lied, going back to the bag and throwing a one-two-three. "I just need to blow off some steam."

"Mmhm, yeah. Right." Eric wasn't wearing a uniform like the rest of the XCOM guys yet, but he'd shed the baggy duster coat and two-sizes-too-small jeans Ozpin had procured for him. Instead, he was wearing a pair of grey camouflage cargo pants and a white tank top. Black boxing tape covered his hands past the knuckles and down to the wrists. "Same here."

It just hit Yang that there was more than one bag. Indeed, she'd picked the one on the far right, and there were two more besides, along with a standing punch dummy with a human torso. That seemed to be the one Eric was gravitating towards.

"So, what's going on? You adjusting okay?" Yang asked. She remembered Blake saying that his planet...well, _this_ planet, had been under attack by aliens when Eric left it, and now it was obvious that the aliens had been on the winning end of that exchange.

"It's kinda upsetting," Eric replied, assuming a fighting stance. It was an odd stance, one that she didn't quite recognize. Dad had always taught her from a boxing technical standpoint, so she'd always taken to the sweet science, but this looked nothing like boxing. She'd always kept a loose stance, something that would allow her to position Ember Celica with minimal movement to maximize her range.

Eric was the opposite. His stance was tight, square, and all forward- shoulders tight, hips forward, legs close, hands high. He continued speaking as he measured his reach, throwing slow, languid elbows that didn't hit anything. "I grew up in Los Angeles. From what Captain Hamilton-" Eric swiftly corrected himself. "-from what _Lawrence_ told me, it's just a big occupied city-center now. Our old base is gone. Now it's a memorial to 'civilian lives lost in the senseless resistance'." His measuring strikes stopped, replaced by a savage elbow strike that shook the dummy. "Base our team got massacred in is just a bunch of rubble in the middle of the Blue Ridge Mountains." Another elbow with the other arm as he continued. "One of my guys was from Baton Rouge- that city's fucking _gone._ ADVENT flooded it just to get rid of some dirty shit they didn't want us to see. Another one was from Bangor, and no one's heard anything about the city since the war." Another elbow with the lead arm, followed by a spin into a back elbow that rocked the dummy as he hopped back into his stance, posting himself up a bit more loosely this time."World's changed without me. 19 years is a long time."

Yang couldn't imagine being away from Remnant for 19 years, but she could empathize. "I can imagine. The time jump from Remnant to here is… insane. Did you…"

Yang wasn't sure how to broach this, or even if she should. She decided that she would, carefully, but she wouldn't press it.

"Did you have any family here?"

Eric threw a kick at the dummy, again seeming more interested in finding range than doing damage. "Dad got shot by a thug when I was 12. Mom kinda disappeared from my life after I turned 19 and joined the Army. I had a brother. We didn't really keep in touch while I was on duty. His wife was sweet, though. I think, looking back, she was more interested in me than him. Had two nephews. I haven't heard or seen anything from any of them. Nobody here can tell me anything without getting into ADVENT's systems, and I'm not gonna risk opsec over my brother or his kids."

"I mean, I don't blame you for thinking about it," Yang offered. "It's nice to have something to go to when you're lost. I don't know what I'd do without my dad or Ruby."

"Here's hoping you never have to find out," Eric said, throwing another kick, this one with more force. A short silence followed, with Eric stopping his offense for a moment and watching as Yang slowly ceased her half-focused attacks.

"How about you?" Eric asked. "Been meaning to do a wellness check. What you did out there-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Yang snapped, much harder than she'd intended to. Really, she hadn't planned on saying a word. It just… came out. "Sorry."

"It's normal. To feel how you're feeling. I wanted to try and talk to you because I've been there, Yang. I get it."

Right, Yang had forgotten that Eric had been a soldier. "I guess you do. It's not that I killed her that bothers me. It's... it's more that…"

"That you enjoyed it."

Yang nodded, a lump forming in her throat. It wasn't like killing a Grimm. A Grimm didn't think, didn't talk, didn't do anything but attack. The Assassin wanted to kill her, sure, but it—she?— wasn't a Grimm. She was a living, sentient being, and Yang had taken pleasure in turning her into an abstract art piece.

"It's human nature," Eric explained. "It's the part of human nature that recruiters, that military types want. The adrenaline of defeating your enemy, the trill of conquest. They want to hone that killing edge into a tool. If you're focused on the adrenaline rush of a dead hostile contact, you don't have time to think about how you just killed somebody. When I was in the Sandbox, my first KIA in the field was during an attempted convoy hit. Dropped the guy, three rounds to the chest. I felt great. I'd protected my guys, protected my country. Then when the engagement was over, I looked at him. He wasn't any older than me. All I could think about for hours was what that guy's mom or dad would do now that he was dead, if he had any brothers or sisters, if he had a wife, if he had kids…"

Eric trailed off, turning his attention back to the dummy, his gaze intense. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and balling his fists, before turning back to Yang.

"The point is, I know. I've been where you've been. It's not a good place to be. But it's a good thing. I've met guys who lost that, who stopped thinking about that kind of thing and focused only on the rush. Almost every one of them started racking up big numbers, and when they ran out of insurgents, they started shooting… other people." Eric turned back to Yang, focusing that metallic gaze on her. "Don't ever forget that you're killing living things. Even if they're fucking aliens."

Yang didn't respond immediately, instead letting out a breath she'd only just realized she'd been holding in.

Eric's eyes softened, and he averted them nervously, offering a slight shrug. "Sorry if that got a little heavy."

"No, no," Yang responded, "it's fine. I think I needed to hear it."

"Glad to help. If you ever need to talk, hit me up. Don't force yourself, though, I know we're not exactly the best of pals after that business in the woods, but I can try my best."

"I appreciate it, really. You've been pretty cool since Ruby half-ripped your arm off," Yang offered with a weak smile.

"The reality check helped, thanks." Eric gave a smile of his own, and offered his fist. Yang nodded, and returned the gesture, before turning back to her bag. "I've never seen that stance before. What is it?"

"Muay Thai," Eric responded. "A guy I knew on base loved the stuff, I drilled it with him a few times. Ended up practicing on my own when I had the time, never really left me. Like learning to ride a bike. Want me to show you some-"

"Oi!" came a shot from the door. Yang immediately turned to the source, a diminutive blond-haired woman with a bandana, a heavily tattooed right arm, and a snarl on her face.

"Goldilocks, Hobo Jones, Grace wants to see ye. Lot of callers on the line, we're gonna need all hands on deck."

Eric huffed, giving Yang a side-eye. "Hobo fuckin' Jones', he muttered. "Best take a rain check on the Muay Thai."

* * *

 _Operation: Sinister Six_

 _ADVENT Psionic Substation Sviyazhk, Tatarstan, Russia_

 _September 28th, 2035_

"Son of a- get **off**!" Phil roared, kicking a Stun Lancer back off his shield and attempting to right himself. There were way too many of these things to say this was a defensive installation. What did ADVENT see in–

"Look out behind ya!" Nora suddenly shouted. Phil wasn't sure where she'd come from, but the moment he turned around, he found her jumping, arm outstretched, into a Stun Lancer that had been teeing off at the back of his head. She grabbed the electro baton, bringing Phil's memory back to what happened the last time she'd attempted such a thing.

"Nora, sto-" he began, only to be struck dumb by what he witnessed.

The shock reverberated through Nora, but seemingly didn't do much of anything but put a smile on her face. She slammed the baton into the floor, arcs of pink lightning shooting up her arms. In the meantime, Phil turned around to face the Stun Lancer he'd engaged, slamming his shield up against their chin, sending them flying backwards, then stepping forward and slamming it into their neck with a dull crunch.

Phil turned to watch as,with no exaggeration, Nora uppercut the Stun Lancer she was engaging off of the floor and into the ceiling, leaving an orange splatter of ADVENT blood where it hit, before the alien hybrid landed with a wet thud.

Nora turned back to look at him with a smile. "Worked that time!"

" _Sacre_ , you children are the devil's work."

* * *

 _Operation: Hangman_

 _ADVENT Logistics Headquarters, Hongkou District, Shanghai, China_

 _October 6th, 2035_

"So uh… problem, love. _Big_ problem," Sophie said, peeking out from behind an overturned table.

"Hit me with it," Jerry said, ducking from behind the window next to Jaune, who was very much not used to having a firearm yet.

"I may have… on complete accident… _activatedthesecondarysecuritysystem_."

"Oh," Jerry replied, before it suddenly hit him. "Oh, shit. Oh, **shit**!"

"That's a lot of robots!" Jaune shouted. "That's a **lot** of robots!"

 _"FUCKING ROBOTS!"_ Roderick screamed over comms. _"HATE EM! I HATE EM! I FUCKIN' HATE EM!"_

"Okay so, how are we gonna tackle this?" Jerry asked, peeking out of the window at the very large crowd of advancing ADVENT MECs. "We got the data, but… that's our extraction point."

"Well how are we gonna get there, then?" Sophie asked, leaning over Jerry's shoulder. "We don't have the firepower to knock them out from here, and they'll have us zeroed the moment we open up."

"Yeah, those things light up the first target they see..." Jerry muttered, trying to think of a solution. There were at least 10 out there, and closing fast, and Jerry only had 5 people to work with. If he was the aliens, he'd probably send out a Berserker or something to draw fire, but it wasn't like he had anything with that kind of armor and endurance...

Then, it hit him.

"Hey, Jaune?"

"Yeah?" Jaune replied.

"How fast can you run?"

* * *

 _Operation: Sun Crusher_

 _ADVENT Propaganda Office, New York City, New York_

 _October 16th, 2035_

Eric looked through the window on the door to the Propaganda Office, watching as ADVENT goons went about clearing as much of the building as they could.

"We're gonna have to do this quietly," Eric muttered, slowly sliding shells into his shotgun as he tried to get a head count. "We're outnumbered here, and we can't afford to wait for Roderick and Ruby to catch up with us. We're gonna have to get their attention somehow.'

"I have an idea," Blake said, slowly loading a lightning dust round into Gambol Shroud. "Risky, but it might get their attention away long enough for us to make a move."

"Let's hear it."

"You know my Semblance, correct?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Blake jerked her head towards the door. "If I go in there, I can leave behind copies of myself charged with electric dust that will stun the soldiers inside. Between the two of us, we can clean them up before they know what hit them, but you'll have to be right behind me. If I get caught out in the open—"

Eric cut her off by racking the action on his shotgun. "You won't. I'll follow your lead."

Blake nodded, and Eric had never felt more confident in his chances of survival than he did at this moment. "Alright then," she said. "Ready?"

"Born ready."

With that, Eric threw a heavy boot into the door. Blake rushed in, all shadows and sharp edges, and Eric followed behind with buckshot and thunder.

* * *

 _Operation: Almace_

 _Resistance Haven, 'The Hole', somewhere in California_

 _October 17th, 2035_

"Look," the woman said, her discomfort obvious in her wavering tone. "I really wish I could guarantee you guys an LZ, but the boss is dead set on getting that Elerium core. Without it, we can't run the generator on that alien comms array, and we won't have our early warning system. If you're gonna be living here, we're gonna need it."

Adam raised a finger and opened his mouth to speak, but Roderick was way ahead of him. Grace had sent him and Ruby along with Dragunova on Cindered Shadows for a reason, after all.

"Hey, Ruby," Roderick spoke up, extending an arm out to his side. "The thing. Bring it over here."

 _"You got it!"_

Within seconds a blur of red and rose petals came to a halt in front of Roderick, revealing a very satisfied Ruby holding an Elerium Core.

"This thing, right?" she asked.

The woman immediately turned her attention to Adam. "You didn't tell me about this."

"Wasn't pertinent," Adam stated coolly, his gaze still laser-focused on the woman, though Roderick could see what almost looked like a smile tugging at his lips. "So, about that LZ…"

* * *

 _Operation: Hammer Down_

 _New San Francisco, California_

 _November 8th, 2035_

"Run all you bloody please, you fucking cunt, but you can't hide from me!"

The ADVENT General slid around the corner into a restaurant, attempting to call for reinforcements as Adam gave chase, Overdrive Serum pumping through his veins. As much as he hated the circumstances around getting the stuff, and the circumstances of this 'provisional' mission command, he couldn't deny its effectiveness. His heart rate was hardly even elevated yet, and he had been at a dead sprint for five straight minutes. The rest of his gene modifications still seemed to be working as well, which made it all the better, he could sense things coming from outside the corners of his vision.

That had a caveat, though. It required him to pay attention to multiple things at once, and Grace had completely vetoed any brain mods save for ocular nerve modifications, something that Adam was grateful for to this day. The problem was that, just this once, he got tunnel vision.

He didn't see the Muton coming until it was far too late, and the bayonet to his hip tore through the light Skeleton Suit and sent him flying to the opposite end of the dining room floor. It ached, but it was a dull, faraway pain, the Overdrive Serum immediately going to work in stopping the bleeding and pumping him full of adrenaline as he nipped up to his feet, drawing his rifle off his back as the Muton charged. The first shot tore through the Muton's shoulder with ease, but he wouldn't get a second as the brutish alien quite literally kicked his gun out of his hand, before swinging with his bayonet and nearly cutting Adam's throat, had he not weaved back at the last second. He drew his pistols, immediately opening fire with his old XCOM-issue laser pistol at one of the Muton's knees, while his mag pistol was… also knocked flying out of his hand, this time by a shot from the Muton's friend. As luck would have it, another _fucking_ Muton was barging into the restaurant.

That General had to be halfway to the ADVENT extract by now. Adam rapidly gathered himself, making a run for his gun and grabbing it mid-roll as both Mutons opened fire with a barrage of plasma. The man rolled to a stop behind an abandoned booth that appeared to have some sort of coffee cake left behind, and got on comms.

"Invincible under heavy fire, where's the target?"

 _"I got no eyes, Invic, trying to get a visual from my position,"_ Lawrence replied. _"Eagle eyes, you got anything?"_

 _"No, sir,"_

Ren replied. _"Adam, where are you?"_ "Inside the restaurant on Malroy Drive. Target just broke contact. Pinned down by ADVENT heavies."

 _"On the way to help!"_ Jaune piped up.

 _"Make it double, boss man!"_ Declan whooped.

 _'Lordy, of all the ones that decide to answer the bloody call.'_

Adam heard a loud _clunk_ and the rapid counting down of an alien plasma grenade timer, which sent him scrambling away from the booth mere seconds away from a burst of fiery green as the booth he'd been using for cover was practically erased. Both Mutons were focused on him, and both of them seemed pissed, the wounded one roaring in rage.

"Divide and conquer, gents! I'll let you clean up the mess I made, you'll know it when you see it," Adam stated, attempting to keep it professional. As much as he didn't trust Jaune when the heat was on, Declan would at least keep him grounded.

 _"Almost there,"_ Jaune said, already winded. The boy'd been running interference since the moment they'd got on the ground. That shield had its uses, specifically when ADVENT turrets were involved.

Adam once again dove into a combat roll, firing both barrels all the way down at the wounded Muton, who shrugged them off as if they were papercuts. The Elders sure seemed to be making them tougher than last go around, and the guns were most definitely bigger. Guns aimed directly at Adam as he juked to the side and kicked a table, attempting to fall behind it into a clumsy but mostly efficient roll towards the back door of the establishment.

 _"Alright, Johnny on the spot,"_ Declan said, seemingly unaware that comms were still active. _"You remember the game plan, right?"_

 _"Uh, game plan? Wait, yeah, the game plan,"_

Jaune replied. _"Yeah, yeah. I think I got it."_

 _"You don't SOUND like you got it, kid."_

"If you two don't mind hurrying it along," Adam interrupted, firing on the move and kicking the back door open in an attempt at egress, narrowly avoiding a plasma bolt to the back of the head as he dove out of the door, "I could use the help!"

 _"Oh, we got ya, boss man. We got eyes on. Watch this."_

"Oh, bother, what does he think he's going to do?" he muttered under his breath.

The Mutons were quick to follow Adam out of the door, weapons again raised and at the ready as Adam poured more fire down the center line, hitting their armor but not making very significant dents, and he felt himself slowing down now that he'd been hit.

"Any second now!"

 _"Ah, fuck it. We gotta modify the plan,"_ Declan whined.

 _"The plan was kinda stupid in the first place,"_ Jaune stated, and despite not even knowing what the plan was, Adam found himself inclined to agree with the boy.

 _"It's not stupid, it just-"_

"-needs a little bit of **modification!** " Declan roared, rapidly overwhelming the echo in Adam's ear as he flung one of his axes at the Muton who'd been kneecapped earlier, the blade dicking into the alien's massive neck and sending him stumbling into the wall. Declan ran past his friend, heedless of an incoming bayonet swing from the remaining Muton, one that Jaune rapidly jumped in to block, his shield arm buckling under the impact.

"Plan!" Declan shouted as he ripped his axe free from the first Muton, running back towards Jaune as he took a knee and lifted his shield, at which point Declan jumped off of the shield and slammed his axe down on the Muton's head with the loud _crack_ of shattered bone. The Muton fell lifelessly to the ground, while Jaune rose to his feet and slammed the edge of his shield into the wounded survivor's head, sending it to a knee, before cutting its throat with his sword.

"Your plan was godawful, and you're lucky it worked," Adam grumbled, holstering one of his pistols and turning the direction they came from. "Did you see the VIP?"

Declan and Jaune had no reply save for a concerned "Um…" from Jaune.

"You let the fucking VIP get past you?" Adam asked, dumbfounded. "For once, Jaune, you show me some bloody competence, and you immediately-"

The nearby report of a Gauss Rifle silenced him, as well as the men beside him. The pause was poignant, with both men looking past Adam as if they had heard the voice of God.

 _"Yup. We got him,"_ Lawrence said, the smile audible in his voice.

 _"Another job well done,"_ Ren agreed. _"Adam, are you alright?"_

Adam groaned aloud. "Just _fucking_ peachy, eagle eyes."

* * *

 _The Avenger_

 _Humanity Falls, Michigan, USA_

 _November 30th, 2035_

"They seem to be getting along rather nicely," Zeke noted, watching over the bar as Teams JNPR and RWBY crowded around a table with Roderick, Eric, Sophie and Jerry. It had gotten so packed in that Ruby was actually sitting _on top_ of the damn thing, which brought Grace no end of mirth. Jerry was trying to convince Pyrrha of something while in an arm-wrestling match with Yang, while Yang and Pyrrha both appeared scandalized.

"Seems like it," she agreed. "What's Jerry asking them about?"

"He's asking how it's fair that Yang has super strength but he doesn't get a handicap. He's askin' Pyrrha to hold his hand up."

"Oh, yeah, it is metal, isn't it?" Grace recalled the new confidence Jerry had whenever Pyrrha was around, and that his tremors were mostly nonexistent on field ops. Just as well, Meld was hard to come by nowadays. "How's the research team doing?"

"They're goin'. Skulljack's hot off the presses. They're waiting on your approval for the next project."

"What's on the presses?"

"We still need to synthesize the samples we got from the Chryssalids, Shen's thinking we could make some kind of reactive armor prototype. There's also the matter of getting that armor project Dr. O'Connor's so set on, and the psionics research."

"The armor project… wait, the Viper suit? Are they seriously going ahead with that?" Grace asked, dumbfounded. The idea had been pitched to her before, yes, but it just seemed so… outlandish. There was no way they could make that work.

A part of her thought she should go and reprimand them. Another wanted to see the dumpster fire for herself.

"You know what? Tell Dr O'Connor he has my go ahead. I want to see this."

Zeke nodded with a grin, and walked off, headed for the research labs. Meanwhile, Grace returned her attention to the table.

"Come on, there's no way I can beat her without some assistance. Help a brother in need, here, Pyr. Please?" Jerry faux-begged, attempting to clasp his hands in supplication. 'Attempt' was the right word for it, as his metal appendage proceeded to make a rather rude gesture without his input.

"I'm telling you, Jerry," Pyrrha chided him with a grin. "That's _cheating._ "

"Dread it. Run from it. The Guns still arrive," Yang said, looming over the table with an outstretched arm.

"'The Guns'. Really?" Alexios asked. "That's the best name you got?"

"These Guns are gonna shoot you down, and you know it. I could probably beat two of you at once," Yang boasted. "Actually, you know what? Bet. Grab the arm, boys."

Alexios looked at Jerry, who looked back at him, incredulous. Alexios shrugged, and grabbed Yang's outstretched hand, propping his elbow as Jerry turned back to Sophie, already grinning like an idiot.

"Kiss for luck?"

Sophie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she gave him a swift peck on the lips. "You're insufferable."

"Damn right he is," Yang agreed. "Hurry up, I'm not gonna beat you from all the way over here."

Jerry melodramatically aped Alexios, but grasped Yang's wrist instead, for leverage.

"I feel like that's also cheating," Weiss stated bluntly.

"I'm gonna win anyway," Yang replied, as sure as if she were stating that the sky was blue. "Watch. Ready, boys?"

"Just about," Jerry replied, his metal hand visibly digging into Yang's Aura.

"Come on," Alexios muttered, tightening his grip, "how bad can it-"

Yang immediately slammed her arm down on the table, bring both men down with her, Jerry in particular sliding out of his seat with the force of it.

"Shite on a fuckin' shingle, girl, what the fuck?" Sophie asked, fish-eyed.

"Bullshit!" Alexios protested, "I wasn't ready! _Ai gamisou!_ "

"I told you this was going to happen," Eric said, grinning like an idiot. "She pulped the Assassin and you thought you were going to win an arm wrestling match."

Grace smiled, and shook her head. She was just happy that, at last, JNPR seemed to have embedded well into XCOM, and RWBY were quickly following suit.

* * *

 **A/N Time**

 **What's up, fuckers?**

 **I really wish FFN would implement something like AO3's notes section, but regardless, here I am! Hi! I'm forever thankful to all of you for following my story and conversing with me here, I really appreciate your support, even if this is my second platform! Please continue to give me these supports and encouragements, as well as any feedback you want to give. And to make it easier for you to reach me, I, in my infinite stupidity, have made a twitter! You can follow me there factor_shock. See y'all next time!**


	35. Chapter 35

"What do you mean, they 'failed'?" Adam asked, rising from his seat fast enough to shake the table. The White Fang leader had sent 'two of his best' to ensure Eric would no longer be a problem, and yet his best had ended up dead, and Eric was nowhere to be found. This 'Ilia' girl was simply acting as the bearer of bad news, and judging by the way Adam was pawing at his sword, that was not a good position to be in.

Cinder was beginning to question her choice in allies, if only on the basis of competency.

"I do believe she explained it quite thoroughly, Adam," Cinder replied coolly, "Your operatives died in an attempt to kill an injured, Aura-less outsider. It's almost as if you're _trying_ to compromise our plans."

"I sent them because I knew they could get the job done!" Adam protested.

"Evidently, you didn't 'know'," Junior stated, folding his arms as he looked to Cinder for direction. She quickly deduced that he was worried that Eric would connect the dots between him and her. She wouldn't admit it aloud, but she felt much the same. No matter. She'd deal with him herself when the time came.

"So, what now?" Junior asked.

"We start making our moves. The dance is just around the corner, and now that I have the worm from our friend up North, we're almost ready to execute," Cinder explained. "Roman, I assume you've gathered all the Dust we require?"

"Of course," Roman said, brushing a few stray locks of ginger to the side. "We've just gotta figure out a timeline, but we can do that after the dance. There's no rush."

"Excellent, then we're still on course." Cinder turned to Emerald, cocking a brow. "And the good doctor?"

"She says she'll be done in Mountain Glenn soon."

"Perfect."

Cinder turned back to the group at large. "Adam. I want the White Fang to lie low for a little while. After your little stunt, there will most certainly be more eyes on us than I'd like. Roman, continue as you do. Junior, if Eric returns to your establishment, you're to contact me immediately. I'll be taking care of that problem myself."

"Yes, ma'am," Junior replied. He didn't hesitate, but the look on his face betrayed his trepidation.

"Is there a problem?" Cinder asked.

"No, ma'am. I'm just worried about the bar getting mixed up in a murder investigation."

"Oh, don't worry," Cinder assured him, smirking. "I'll be… _discreet._ "

* * *

"Oh, boy…" Bradford muttered as he looked over the map plastered on the briefing room wall. This was not good.

"What's going on, John?" Grace asked, turning away from her desk. She'd just finished calling the team up, and they'd likely be arriving within the next few minutes, depending on just what they were doing.

"The train. It's moving."

Grace turned back to the desk for a moment, seemingly unfazed by the revelation. "Yes, John, that's what- wait, _what_?" She wheeled around so fast that it gave him secondhand whiplash. "How long ago?"

"I don't know. At least an hour, considering its position. What's strange is that it's not moving on its intended trajectory. It's moving backwards… towards us."

"Hm…" Grace paused, likely consulting that Ethereal in her head— God, he still was getting used to having that _wonderful_ little nugget of information— before seemingly calming down enough to formulate a plan. "We can still go ahead with the op, we're just gonna have to be a bit more… proactive."

"You think they can make it onto a moving train?"

"Can't be that hard, right? I know Adam's done it before, at least."

Bradford distinctly remembered the last time Jones had inserted onto a moving train. It hadn't been a very pleasant landing. "Hopefully there's no sprains this time. Or breaks. Or people falling under the train."

"Yeah, well, here's hoping. We should probably send the Skulljack along with them. You got any ideas? Tygan didn't exactly offer any glowing endorsements."

"Probably someone who has CQC training, so for this op… Adam or Roderick would be the best choices."

"Right, I'll ask 'em when they get here, then."

"Speak of the devil," Bradford noted as he looked at the cameras in the hallway. Adam and Eric were already walking up to the door, with Roderick, Jaune, Jerry, Ren and Lawrence coming up fast behind them. Soon, everyone was filing in one after the other, with Ruby, Blake and Howland bringing up the rear.

"Alright, that's everyone?" Grace asked, looking over the room. "Looks like it. Thanks for the hustle, team. Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… we've got a problem. The train we're supposed to be hitting left the station approximately one hour ago, and it's heading backwards along the track."

"So it's headed east from Omaha?" Adam asked, orange-tinted blue eyes focused on the map. God, giving him the Overdrive Serum had been a mistake, even if the little bit of Meld in it was keeping him stable. "Odd that they'd suddenly just turn around. Gotta be a reason for it."

"Maybe they missed their stop?" Ruby asked.

"ADVENT don't miss, knee-high," Howland replied, narrowing his eyes at the map, before looking to Grace. "Think they might have gotten tipped off?"

"Resistance hasn't reported any raids anywhere in the West, not where they'd have information leading back to us, anyhow," Grace said, turning to confirm such on her computer. Bradford had his suspicions about what could have happened, but he didn't dare voice them, not while Adam was in the room.

What surprised them was that Adam was the one to voice them.

"When was the last time we changed our communications cyphers, Commander?" Adam asked.

"Start of the month."

"So it's not that they broke into our systems. We've got no intrusions in the system, Stark would have told us," Adam said.

"Tell him to check again," Lawrence said.

"I will," Bradford replied. "Still, I'm not sure why the train would leave so early… ADVENT doesn't change their schedule for just anything."

"There could be a lot of reasons," Blake stated, matter-of-fact. "Rail-based supply lines require constant coordination. Maybe their destination requested whatever cargo they're carrying delivered earlier. Or, they could be changing the timetables randomly to ensure that any civilians that might be feeding you information wouldn't be able to give you an accurate position on the train at any given time. There's also the chance it's just because of a mistake, either from your sources or the rail coordinators themselves."

"You know an awful lot about trains, sheila." Howland cocked a brow, pointing a questioning finger at Blake.

Blake gave a slightly unsettling smirk. "I _may_ have some relevant experience.."

"Still, that leaves the question of what exactly made them bugger off so fast."

"I don't know," Roderick said, "and I'm not sure I want to know. Commander, maybe we should scrap this op."

"We can't," Adam said, his visage grim as he turned away from Grace and back to the others. "Avatar Project's advancing too fast for us to just sit one out because there's the hair of a mite's arse it might have been compromised. The data on this train is valuable. This could set them back for _months_ if we managed to get it before they do."

"Is it worth risking a whole team of ops?" Howland asked.

"I know this is going to sound rich coming from me, but…" Adam trailed off, jerking a thumb towards Jaune. "We've got an insurance policy. One of these kids was able to take on the Chosen on even footing. If they weren't here, I wouldn't be advocating for this big of a gamble, but at this point the odds are in our favor, if only just. If there are no objections…"

Adam's eyes, along with Bradford's, trailed around the room. Everyone seemed to be looking to each other for confirmation. Nobody said anything, but it seemed to Bradford that the majority consensus was more a resigned 'guess it'll do' shrug and a few nods here and there from the group.

Well, everyone except for Jerry. He was just staring daggers at the wall.

"One question, though, ma'am," Lawrence said, a look of concern on his face. "Nine's a big team, even for our new SOP. Why do you have me coming along?"

"The Skyranger's gonna loiter over the train to provide overwatch and evac, since the train's gonna be moving," Grace explained. "You're gonna be her gun."

"Right, right. So we're not stopping the train."

"That's correct, Sergeant."

"Miss, with all due respect," Jerry spoke up for what had to be the first time this meeting- unusual, because the man wasn't normally one to be quiet. "Stopping that train in the middle of Assfuck, Kentucky is a hell of a lot safer than trying to do a moving infiltration. There's plenty of potential for injury or death in the landing phase alone- someone could miss landing and hit the wall, or worse, fall under the tracks, and again, with all due deference? I don't know how this 'Aura' stuff works, but I don't think Aura can stop you from getting mulched by a freight train."

"I think that's a reasonable assumption to make," Ren stated flatly. From anyone else, it would have sounded sarcastic.

"Jerry, I know the risks. Trust me," Grace said. She was using _that_ tone of voice again, the tone that belied a silent 'you're not going to budge me on this'.

"And I'm this chief's CMO, so I'm going to call you out when I think that's not the right choice. This isn't a good idea."

"Corporal Hall, when I need you to make the judgement calls for me, I will let you know," Grace stated, her tone now progressing into the 'I'm not listening anymore, shut up' phase that this damn alien in her head seemed to be trying to force out of her more regularly these days. "Until that point, I need you to trust me."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry if I sound a mite disrespectful," Howland piped up, "but I'm startin' to see his reasoning. Let's say the best case scenario is that they don't get slapped off the train by the bitch we all know as gravity. Then what? They have a limited amount of time to clear what's likely a killhouse on wheels and bug out, while still on said mobile killhouse, mind you. How do you propose they do that?"

"Look, Grace wouldn't be giving this order if she wasn't willing to go through with it herself," Adam said, putting his foot down firmly in Grace's favor, as he'd always done. Notably, Eric seemed to be ready to jump out of his seat, although to what end, Bradford wasn't sure.

"I'm not questioning her integrity, Adam," Jerry said, "I'm questioning why she's not giving me something to work with. Yeah, the kids are here. We've got the humanoid equivalent of pocket nukes now, I get it, but you're still asking me to put _our_ people's lives on the line, including these kids, who never asked to be here and fight in our war, without giving me a good damn reason why-"

"Hey, Hall," Eric interrupted, "how about we all get a turn to talk at the big kid's table." He then turned his attention to Grace. "Look, ma'am, I'm a big boy. I don't know how you XCOM people did shit back in the Big One, but me and Lawrence know better than anyone that a rushed operation is nine times out of ten going to explode in your face. If you know something, and you're not telling us, that's compromising opsec, and putting your operator's lives at risk based on a hunch that they don't even know about. If there's something you know that we don't, tell us. You stay one-hundred with me, I'll jump when you say jump, no question, but there's something missing here."

"I agree," Lawrence seconded his fellow Delta. "This is a military operation, isn't it?"

"I think we need to know, too," Ruby spoke up, taking Bradford by surprise. "I don't want anyone getting hurt because we don't know what's going on. I'm not calling you a liar or anything, Grace, but please, at least tell us why we can't stop the train?"

Grace sighed, and Bradford wondered, for the briefest of moments, if she was actually going to tell them about Asaru.

She didn't.

"The train's gonna be hitting a major ADVENT intersect by the time we reach it. If you stop the train, ADVENT's interceptors will be on you so fast that there's no feasible way for Firebrand to extract you. If the train is still moving, you'll have less time boots-on-the-ground, which means less time for ADVENT to scramble after they sound the alarm. I've planned for the alarm, I want Jerry and a wingman inserting at the front of the train to shut down the thing, but we can't risk stopping the train. That's a red flag ADVENT can't ignore, even if we manage to kill the alarm."

There was silence in the room as all involved digested Grace's half-truth. While that made sense from a tactical standpoint, it wasn't the reason she gave Bradford. _'This is just how it has to be',_ she said. _'He's got a plan. It's the only way.'_

Fuck, he hated Asaru.

"Alright, yeah," Jerry agreed. "Makes sense."

"I still dunno myself, but I guess I'll work with it. If something goes wrong, y'all have me for a reason," Howland said. "Gimme a holla if you need a fast mover."

"So, wait," Jaune interrupted, raising a hand. "How are we supposed to get on the train if it's moving?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Jaune," Ren started, as calm as ever. "We're going to have to jump onto the train."

* * *

Jerry frowned as he looked at his hand, the metal joints of his fingers clicking and whirring as he attempted to steady the ever-moving appendage. It had gotten a lot better, with a combination of training and the liberal application of Pyrrha's Semblance, but it was still a bit of a pain to keep the thing still.

Unfortunately for him, Pyrrha wasn't here.

"That thing still givin' you guff, Peace?" Roderick asked, pointing to the appendage in question.

"Yeah. It's just what it is."

"Fuck, figured you'd have the thing sussed out by now," Roderick muttered, turning away from Jerry. "I'd rather die than end up with that kinda fuckin' annoyance. Let me bleed out."

"Duly noted."

"You wouldn't actually let me bleed to death, though… right?"

Jerry simply smiled, not saying anything. He'd let the man suffer for a few moments.

"Jerry, come on, work with me here."

"Relax, Roddy, I'll only let you exsanguinate a _little._ "

With that, Jerry's attention turned to the rest of the team for the mission. Eric was still fiddling with the Skulljack, the hard-light projection sitting awkwardly on his forearm as he gave it a couple of experimental slashes at the empty air, each one causing Adam to flinch a bit more than the one before.

"Can you not?" Adam asked.

"Sorry. Just feels like it should have some weight," Eric replied, turning the thing off. "Think I saw some shit like this in a video game once."

"I wouldn't know."

"So, train's still on course?" Roderick asked, looking out of the open door of the Skyranger. "I'd rather not get any more surprises tonight."

"Yep. Still headed east," Firebrand called back. "All quiet."

"I still don't feel quite right about this," Lawrence said, leaning on his rifle. "We still don't know why they changed the timetable.."

"If they were going to ambush us, it would have made more sense to leave the train where it was," Blake assured him. "Still, we _should_ keep our eyes open."

"I just don't like it when I can't explain things," Lawrence said, shrugging his shoulders. "I didn't live this long by just walking in blind."

"We're not completely blind, and worst case scenario… we have _them_ ," Adam said, jerking a thumb towards Jaune. "We'll be fine."

"Gee, I'm so glad that I'll be a good meat shield," Jaune droned sarcastically. "Thank you so much for the resounding endorsement."

"Alright, alright, alright, ladies and gentlemen," Firebrand called back. "We're getting ready to hit the target! Gird your fucking loins and get off my ship! We're gonna be landing hard and fast on different points of the train- you know your targets! First pair, stack up!"

Adam stood up and cracked his neck. Jerry watched his orange-veined eyes scan the team one by one, before eventually settling on Ruby.

"Oi, pipsqueak. Think you can keep up?"

Ruby practically beamed as she hopped to her feet. "Betcha I can get down there faster."

"Then let's get it on."

With that, Adam took flight, leaping onto the descent ropes while Ruby careened off the airship in a burst of rose petals.

"I will _never_ get used to that," Eric stated.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, Frost," Jerry replied. "Who's next up?"

"I'll go," Blake said, standing up. "Eric?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Eric followed suit, grabbing the shotgun off his back and racking the action. "See you guys on the ride!" He then turned back to Firebrand. "Second pair, up and ready!"

"Alright," Firebrand replied, starting a countdown. "Five, four, three, two, one… go!"

With that, Eric and Blake were both off, both sliding down the ropes to the train below, leaving Jerry with the men's half of JNPR, Lawrence, and Roderick.

"So, what exactly are they moving?" Jaune asked, looking over at Roderick. "You didn't tell us."

"Sensitive Avatar project data," Jerry explained. "Reapers have been looking for the Chosen's hideouts, but they managed to stumble on some goodies in the process, figured we might appreciate the heads up."

"What are we gonna do with the data?" Jaune asked.

"Read it," Roderick answered, taking his rifle off of the rack next to his seat. "Burn it. Maybe even remix it into a chiptune song, I don't fucking know, ask Tygan."

"What matters is that ADVENT doesn't get the data. Ren and I are gonna make sure this train doesn't get where it's going."

Jaune nodded. "Okay. What do you need me and Roderick to do, then?"

"While the bionic commando and Zen Motherfucker do that," Roderick continued, "Me and you are gonna clear the rest of the cars and make sure ADVENT doesn't get reinforcements on board."

"'Zen Motherfucker'?" Ren repeated, incredulous.

"Yeah," Roderick responded nonchalantly, "Zen Motherfucker."

"You really reached for that one, my man," Jerry said, grabbing his own weapon. "See yourself out."

"Gotta agree with the sawbones here," Firebrand said. "Off ya go, Roderick!"

"Woo, flying," Roderick grumbled, jumping up to his feet. "Jaune-athan, try not to land on your face this time!"

"Stop. Please," Jaune protested weakly.

"See you on the flip side, Jerry!" With that, Roderick was off, and Jaune followed, pale as death as he jumped onto the descent cable. He seemed to be getting a bit better with flying, if only by exposure. Poor kid.

"Just us now, 'Zen Motherfucker'," Jerry said, turning back to Ren. "How are you feeling?"

"Not good," Ren responded. "This seems like a setup to me."

"You would know?"

"Not necessarily, but I feel like it's common sense. Why would the train suddenly turn around and move towards us? From how you've described the ADVENT regime, they don't seem to be the type to forget cargo or make a sudden schedule change without some sort of reason."

"Couldn't tell you, man, couldn't tell you."

Ren looked at the floor of the Skyranger, obviously putting a lot of thought into the matter. After a short pause, he spoke. "Suppose it's too late to back out now."

"Yep. You ready for this?" Jerry asked, extending his good hand in a fist. Ren simply nodded in reply.

"Ready," he replied.

' _Dude really is Zen. Too Zen. Throws me off,'_ Jerry thought to himself. "Firebrand, we ready to go?"

"Hit it, Peace!" she shouted.

Jerry stood up, examining his metal hand as it twitched, more subtly than usual. He never thought that he'd get used to the thing in the first few months, but Pyrrha basically holding it steady with her brain seemed to have given him a bit more control over the thing. Just in time- this wasn't an op he wanted to bungle.

Ren was out of the door first, and Jerry followed, gun in one hand while the other was on the rope. The descent was fast- almost too fast, really, and the Skyranger was moving so quickly to keep pace with the train that Jerry regretted not putting on some goggles and a tac mask, or something of the like. The wind _hurt_ , icy and biting against his skin. He idly wondered if that 'Aura' stuff would keep Ren warm.

The landing was rough, too, especially considering that when Firebrand heard 'front of the train', she assumed that meant Jerry was going to land on the cab itself, which was a difficult proposition considering the only door to the thing was on the back of the car. He'd landed, as luck would have it, right at the front of it, the only thing saving him from getting mulched by the train being his metal hand digging into the glass at the front of the car, the sheer power in his metallic grip enough to punch through the glass and give him a foothold long enough to look the two ADVENT driving the train in the eye

"This is a robbery," he stated, raising his gun. "Mercy!"

M3-RC slipped beneath Jerry's feet as he shifted his grip and fired into the glass, killing both of the drivers in quick succession and shattering the glass in the process. Luckily, with the aid of his GREMLIN foothold, he'd managed to grab a hold of the windowsill, his metal appendage locking shut around the dangerously sheer surface.

"Ren?"

" _Just two guards, lightly armed."_ he said. _"I don't think this is a good sign."_

"You and me both, buddy. I'm coming in from the front window."

Jerry forced himself through the window slat, broken glass and all, landing on his feet on the other side of the control console, between the two dead ADVENT. Ren wasn't far behind, kicking one of the doors open and jogging over to his side.

"How do we stop it?" he asked.

"I got an idea, but I'm not sure." Jerry put his hand up to his helmet. "Hey, Adam, we've secured the cab. Want us to stop this thing?"

" _Absolutely not, Jerry, you're still in ADVENT's hot zone,"_ Grace stated firmly, and Jerry could _feel_ his stomach dropping. Even if he had no concrete evidence that this was a setup, he just knew it was. Ironic, considering that seemed to be the entire reason Grace believed it wasn't a setup, but the fact remained, his gut hadn't failed him yet..

"Yes, ma'am." He then turned to Ren. "You heard the man. Watch my ass, I'm gonna do some digging in the train's systems. I'm gonna try to figure out why these guys made a sudden 180. If I don't like what I see, we're hitting the brakes."

Ren nodded, giving Stormflower a little twirl before heading back a ways in the cab, leaning up against a small alcove that led to a chair and a series of cameras that held a view of almost the entire train. The only thing Jerry could tell from this distance was that there was a measly platoon on the train. Four squads- no more, no less, not counting the four that he and Ren had just dispatched

"Why are they so understaffed… ever since JNPR came back, they've been running two platoons on our damn 'milk runs'" he muttered to himself, turning back to the train. "Mercy, help me out here."

The Gremlin flew to his side, already attempting to crack the trains' security algorithms. One wrong move, and the console would explode- ADVENT had notoriously vicious failsafes. He silently hoped it wouldn't come to that.

* * *

"You know, I'm no Sun Tzu." Eric noted as he finished reloading his shotgun, before swinging out from behind the doorway of the caboose to hit an ADVENT soldier across the way, "I'd like to think they'd have a few more than two or three guys in each car when you're transporting precious cargo. Not that I'm a veteran of the longest armed conflict in the history of the United States, or anything."

While Blake wasn't exactly the most knowledgeable about this new enemy's force deployment, she was inclined to agree with him.

"You're right, something's definitely wrong," Blake replied. "Still, there's not a lot of places to hide warm bodies on a train. Maybe the surprise is waiting for us at the destination?"

"Guess we'll find out" Eric jerked his head towards the next car, smirking. "You should be clear. Go get some. Remember-"

"-The officers are yours. I got it." With that, Blake took off, jumping across to the other car and landing atop the body Eric had just left on the floor, springboarding into the car itself and immediately creating a clone to draw fire. It seemed most of the ADVENT took the bait- all except for the one she'd happened to land right in front of, which caught Gambol Shroud in its throat for its trouble. Eric wasn't far behind her, shotgun roaring as he cleaned up behind her.

"None here?"

"Nope. Next car, I suppose."

As Eric reloaded, Blake hopped across to the next car, noting that the door was shut. She jerked the handle, but it wouldn't budge.

"Door's stuck!" she called.

"Got it," Eric replied, grabbing an X-4 charge off his back and walking up to the door. Compared to the man she'd met in the Emerald Forest, he seemed colder now, more composed. He moved with the practiced strokes of a professional. Compared to the violent smash-and-grab style when she'd assisted… _him_...on similar operations, it was night and day. "How you doin?"

"I'm fine. Ready to go when you are."

"Alright. Back off the door a bit."

Blake did as she was asked, reloading Gambol Shroud and preparing for entry. If her mental count was right, she'd run out of Dust soon. She needed to ration her shots.

"Hitting the switch," Eric said, and then, flame. The charge blasted open the door, leading to frantic cries from the inside as Eric stuck his shotgun through the opening, firing three blind shots inside as Blake moved through. Two of his shots had found a home in a now-crumpled ADVENT soldier, while another, and the Officer that was no doubt in charge, were making a break for the other end of the car.

"Found one!" Blake shouted.

"He's mine!"

With that, Blake rushed ahead, creating a clone behind her as she leapt through the air and landed right in front of the panicking ADVENT duo. While the Officer turned back towards Eric, the soldier chose to stand and fight. Brave? Perhaps. Dead? Definitely.

With ease that Blake wished she didn't possess, Gambol Shroud found the alien's neck and cut it wide, leaving the ADVENT to crumple lifelessly to the floor. That only left the officer.

The more Blake watched Eric fight, the more she'd begun to see him as an anomaly, but more of one than her new 'comrades' in XCOM. He wasn't _entirely_ alien. His time on Remnant had irreconcilably changed him, made him more like the world he'd been stranded on for two years on, from the ugly, half-kitbashed handgun forced to fire Dust-laced bullets it couldn't possibly have been designed for (she wondered exactly how Ruby had managed to make his shotgun work) to the almost Huntsman-like movements he used to close the distance, switch to said handgun, and-

Her thoughts were derailed by a blast from Eric's dust-enhanced handgun that sent the ADVENT officer's rifle flying off to the side as Eric quickly kicked aside the arm the officer was using to attempt to draw its sidearm, before swinging with a vicious uppercut, the 'Skulljack' flaring to life in a flash of blue as he jammed it into the alien's jaw.

"In the system, Shen," he called out. "Says something about an 'ADVENT Codex', that what we're looking for?"

" _Hit it, Eric,"_ Shen replied.

Eric twisted the weapon, causing the officer to scream, and then fall slack as he withdrew the weapon and allowed it to drop to the floor. Several seconds passed, the only sound being both of their labored breaths and the rolling of the train on the tracks.

"I got nothing," Eric said, as a haze of orange light began to form behind him, taking a humanoid shape. A sharp beam of purple brought forth some sort of robotic skull that connected to the lights, bringing along with it one of the long firearms Blake had seen many of the aliens' heavy soldiers wielding.

"Eric, behind you!" Blake warned him, immediately pulling and firing a round from Gambol Shroud that struck true, sending the being head over heels as Eric dove to the floor of the train, holstering his pistol on the way down and pulling his shotgun off his back. The light construct seemed to be unfazed by the damage, however, instead screeching like some sort of possessed demon as an exact copy appeared right next to Blake, its weapon level with her head. Blake managed to escape with the aid of her semblance just in time, the fire Dust-infused clone exploding behind her as the attacker fired its weapon.

"Jesus, fuck, I wanna know where these guys get their antivirus," Eric shouted, quickly scrambling to his feet and behind a stack of metal crates. "Blake, you good?"

"I'm fine," she responded. "You?"

"I'll be better once I clock this motherfucker," he responded, cocking his shotgun. "Knew this was too easy."

* * *

"How's it looking, boys and girls?" Adam asked, throwing his sniper rifle over his back as he resumed his run across the train cars.

" _Looking a bit rough, boss man,"_ Eric replied. _"I got a new best friend who not only refuses to die, but also actively procreates every time I try to fucking kill it."_

"You need a hand, Frost?"

" _Nah, I think we got- Blake, watch your fucking head!"_

Adam sighed, and kept running. Frost seemed to be doing quite well to consider he hadn't even gotten proper training yet, at least not in XCOM's way of doing things. He'd seen enough of Lawrence's work to know Delta Force was the real deal, and the way he'd gotten that ADVENT Officer only proved it further in his eyes.

Still, the data was the main objective, and the front of the train wasn't much farther. The server room car was one of the last ones before the objective.

"Ruby, you still with me?"

"Yep!" came the call from alongside the train, as Ruby put a rapid halt to her flight, smashing her scythe into the side of the train and stopping her momentum long enough to converse with him. "What're we looking for again?"

"Box with the green lights. Do **not** touch it. Leave it to me."

"You got it!"

With that, she was off again, a blur of red and roses that Adam was hard-pressed to keep pace with. God, even when he got his old groove back, he was still not quite good enough. As he jumped down through the sunroof of one of the cars, he drew his pistols, the bioelectric sensors in his skin immediately tingling with the sensation of nearby contact. The 'sixth sense' scared the shit out of him back when it was brand new, but now, it was as natural to him as his eyes. Immediately, he whipped around, firing one pistol into the ADVENT trooper already trying to get a bead on him, sending him back into a stack of crates with a hole in his head, while he drew the other and took aim once more, firing a few rounds from both into a Muton that seemed more stunned at his audacity than anything. Wounded as it might be, Adam was on a roll, and he wasn't about to stop. He'd leave the cleanup to the others.

"How we doin' out there, lads?" he asked.

" _Fighting our way to the front of the train,"_ Jaune responded. _"Almost there!"_

" _We're still at the front of the train. If you want us to stop it, now would be the time,"_ Ren replied.

"You heard Grace's orders, do not fucking stop this train under any circumstances."

" _Alright."_

" _Adam,"_ Jerry interrupted, _"There is something very, very wrong with this train. I'm hitting firewalls and black bars everywhere, there was barely a platoon of ADVENT on this train, and ADVENT isn't scrambling reinforcements to hit us again, but I've got confirmation right in front of me that they've been tracking the train., and the turnaround wasn't given any specified reason. You know good and well ADVENT doesn't change shit on a whim. We need to hurry up and get the hell out of dodge."_

"Roger that, we're almost to the target. Are there any more hostiles between me, Ruby, and the package?"

" _Absolutely none,"_ Jerry replied. _"I don't fucking like this."_

" _Yeah, we're completely clear on my end, sir, moving to assist Frost and Black Cat now,"_ Roderick said.

" _I haven't seen a damn thing up here this whole time,"_ Lawrence said, his concern evident in his voice. _"Say the word and we'll pick you up. This is a damn trap. Has to be."_

Adam couldn't help but be inclined to agree at this point. ADVENT was many things. Cruel to the point of being petty, brutally efficient, viciously vindictive, and most certainly, _not bloody stupid._ That being said, his money was on the package being trapped somehow. Maybe rigged to detonate.

"Peace, send the Gremlin back here and break into the package when I get eyes on," he ordered.

" _Sure thing."_

"Eric, is that thing down yet?"

" _We got it, finally,"_ Blake replied as staccato shotgun fire punctuated her sentence.

" _I got the thing's head too, don't know if it might be useful. The rest of it just fucked off,"_ Eric said. _"What do you want from us now, Sarge?_ "

"Move up, we'll link up with you when we grab the package."

" _Right on."_

With all that said and done, Adam didn't doubt he was close to the center car now. "Ruby, you there?"

" _Yep! Found the car, I think the doors are open, though. Is that bad?"_

"That's fucking horrible, wee lass, let's see if we can figure out why."

Adam pushed ahead to the car in question, noting that, indeed, the doors were open. Ruby stood next to it, seeming for all the world unperturbed as she looked over the side rail at something fast approaching. Said something quickly revealed itself to be Jerry's GREMLIN, which flew over to his side and chirped something fierce.

"No contact?" Adam asked.

"Nothin'," Ruby replied, stepping away from the rail and peeking back inside. "Just the box."

As much as he wanted to believe Ruby could simply tank any detonation from a booby-trapped box, Adam had no doubt in his mind that Grace, Bradford, and possibly dozens of others would be on his arse for days if he used her as a makeshift bomb shield, and he'd likely not survive Yang's wrath long enough to get through half the lectures. As such, he was gonna have to be the one to take point on this.

"Oi, bot," he ordered, "take a look-see at the box. Let me see what I'm working with."

The GREMLIN flew past him and scanned the box a few times. Notably, the light never changed from its uniform blue, and the drone made nary a peep. That wasn't what he'd expect from a trap.

The bot chirped and flew back over to him, revealing… absolutely nothing. No data, no trap, no electronic lock, no nothing. Just an empty, unlocked box.

"Ruby, I need your weapon," he said, extending an arm.

"What? Why?" she asked, clutching Crescent Rose to her chest like a mother would her babe.

"So I can open the bloody box, that's all, don't get your knickers in a twist."

Ruby paused, and Adam distinctly noted the lack of gun-scythe being pressed into his hands. "It's name is _Crescent Rose._ "

"Lass, I couldn't be fucked. Can I _please_ have Crescent Rose so that I can open. The _bloody_. Box?"

Before he could say anything, Ruby stepped forward with uncharacteristic ferocity, and swung the blade into the box, the curve of the scythe catching beneath the latch and throwing it open. Adam, completely taken aback, leapt backwards and braced himself for the inevitable explosion...

… one that never came. No bomb, no shock, no thermite, nothing. Not a single trap in the box.

"Fuck me, it's safe, Adam muttered, stepping back forward. "Do me a favor and never pull that shite again."

"It worked, didn't it?"

As Adam peeked into the box, his blood ran ice cold. The intel wasn't in the box. As a matter of fact, there was nothing in the box.

This was absolutely, beyond the shadow of a doubt, a setup.

"Firebrand," he barked, switching over to comms. "Firebrand, extract, this is a fucking setup! We're out in the-"

" _Multiple psionic pings in the area, team,"_ Bradford interrupted, sounding for all the world as if he'd just seen the specter of death. _"I count four, and at least one of them's the Assassin."_

" _Four!?"_ Roderick shouted. _"Tell me this is a fucking trick, there's no way-"_

" _Confirm four hostiles!"_ Lawrence shouted. _"Star, hold her steady, I'm taking a shot at 'em."_

" _If there's four of these fuckers, I'm not gonna be able to safely close in,"_ Firebrand warned. _"What's the play now?"_

"Loiter and provide fire support, Team, converge on the front of the train, we need to get off this bloody ride! Jerry, stop the fucking train!"

" _Fucking- I can't! I'm locked out! I can't access anything anymore- cams are out, controls are out, I'm fucked here!"_ Jerry responded, half-frenzied. _'He saw it coming, somehow, and we all dismissed it,'_ Adam noted. _'Boy's smarter than I thought he was.'_

" **That's not going to happen, XCOM,"** a thundering voice boomed out, seemingly all around Adam at once.

"What was that?" Ruby asked.

" _Where_?" Adam followed, quickly scanning the room. He was barely getting any bioelectric signatures other than their own. _'No, wait. There's something above us. Weak, but it's the-'_

The roof of the train in front of him tore open, and Adam was now confronted with a mass of armor at least eight feet tall, all black and red, and armed with what appeared to be some sort of heavy firearm.

" **Afraid this train's got no brakes,"** it stated, slowly rising up and cracking its neck, **"until you do."**


	36. Chapter 36

"You gotta be fucking with me…" Eric muttered, quickly reloading his shotgun as he looked around the car for the first sign of his new _friend_. "Blake?"

"Still here."

"Fuckin' hell…" he muttered…

"Now,"the big, purple jackass grumbled melodramatically as he jumped down onto the entrance to the train, rearing to full height. "You face the Elder's greatest champion."

"Are you fucking serious?" Eric asked, cocking an eyebrow. This had to be the weirdest thing he'd seen since he got back from Remnant.

"He's serious," Blake replied with absolute certainty.

"Ugh, fuck me. Alright 'greatest champion,' the challenger wants his belt."

The 'Elder's Greatest Champion' gave Eric an equally confused glance, long white hair fanning out and slowly wafting with some invisible, intangible wind. Eric wasn't sure what his gimmick was, but he already didn't trust it. He had a gun on his back and some sharp bits on his gauntlets, but he wasn't armored enough to be a CQC fighter. As he raised a hand, purple energy formed a ball, and began to spread out behind him.

"What's he doing?" Blake asked under her breath, crouching low and tightening her grip on her weapons.

"No idea," Eric replied, immediately raising his weapon and firing. The shotgun blast proved ineffectual when the purple energy coalesced into the vaguely humanoid shape of the Champion just before impact, absorbing the superheated flechettes like it was nothing and dissipating as quickly as it appeared.

"Oh, that's not fucking fair."

"This is only a fraction of my powers," the being responded, "Behold, the might of-"

Blake pounced, aiming a slash straight at the Chosen's chest, forcing it to dodge to one side and turn its attention long enough for Eric to fire again, his shell barely ricocheting off of-

A purple flash of light, not entirely unlike the 'Aura' that his current wingwoman possessed.

"You are not the only ones who are blessed," it explained, grabbing Blake's sword mid-swing and backhanding her out of the car. Then it threw a lance of purple energy straight at Eric's head. He ducked, barely dodging the attack, before firing again. This time, the Chosen dodged, leaving the shot to harmlessly bounce off of Blake's Aura. . "The Elders have witnessed your prowess, child, and seen fit to bestow their champion with further gifts… behold, the fruits of my labor!"

"Oh, will you just shut the fuck-" Eric started, only to be cut off by the now incensed-Chosen.

 **"Silence, Human!"** it demanded, throwing another bolt at him, this time with both hands, and much faster than last time. The lance of energy hit him right in the hip, burning something fierce that reached deep into his skin and drew a yelp of pain. "You are not my prey!"

"Over here, then!" Blake shouted back, and flew from behind, kicking the Chosen in the back of the head, before following up with a second wheel kick and a slash with her sword that drew a long streak of orange blood from its face.

" **Heathen!"** It shouted again, grabbing Blake's face in the middle of her follow-up and slamming her into the floor. "Cease your fruitless resistance!"

"Cease your _fucking_ screaming then, _khodaye man_ ," Eric fired back, slipping into the old tongue. _Damn, my Farsi sounds bad._ No matter, though, mainly because the Chosen didn't listen.

"I have grown tired of your insolence. I will bend you to my will, and make you **suffer**!" With that, the Chosen threw Blake out of the car and turned back to Eric, eyes glowing as it extended a tendril of said purple energy towards Eric's head. For a moment, Eric felt a sting, and then… nothing. A mild discomfort, at best. The Chosen still seemed focused on trying to hurt him, so Eric took the opportunity to line up a shot from his hip and fire directly into its gut, the blast sending the Chosen flying out the same door it'd sent Blake through, purple not-Aura crackling.

Eric sighed, sliding two more shells into his shotgun as he followed the Chosen's flight out of the train. This was shaping up to be a long evening.

* * *

As the Assassin swung into the car, sword in hand, Jerry threw himself headlong into the Chosen with gusto. The Assassin barely dodged his shoulder charge and the follow-up barrage of suppressive fire, dive-rolling directly into Ren, who threw a quick question-mark kick in response that snapped her head back and sent her onto her side.

Jerry was being unusually hasty and aggressive, but that wasn't Ren's concern right now. They were packed in too tight inside this train car. Outside, Ren would have the advantage.

"You're reckless," it grumbled, rolling up to its feet and hopping away from Ren and Jerry, adjusting her grip on her sword as her eyes darted between the two men. "Were you stupid enough to believe that this wasn't a trap?"

"Exact fucking opposite," Jerry growled, quickly adjusting his metal hand before charging forward again. Ren didn't understand why he was putting himself in close-quarters combat with it– he had no melee weapon that Ren could see, and he certainly didn't have any Aura to protect him from that sword. The Assassin effortlessly dodged him again, rewarding his efforts with a strong slash at the back of his neck, only for Jerry to roll under it, landing at a knee and firing another burst, its second dodge much clumsier and and haphazard than the first. Ren once again followed up, attempting to land two concurrent slashes with Stormflower, only to be parried by the Assassin.

"For five months," Jerry started, reloading his weapon, "FIVE! MONTHS! I have been waiting. Waiting to shove my boot so. FAR. UP. YOUR. _ASS!"_

With that, Jerry charged forward again, the dual assault from himself and Ren overwhelming the Assassin's defenses. A few of Jerry's shots pierced her armor at the hip, while a slash from Stormflower managed to break open the plate just above the heart. Still, it stood, and now, it was a lot angrier.

"You've grown stronger," the Assassin noted, "but you fail to realize that you are doomed. Every step you take has been predicted by the elders. For months, we have watched, waited-"

"Mercy, shut this thing up!" Jerry shouted, and the GREMLIN flew into action. Ren wasn't sure what had brought on this sudden burst of aggression from the medic, but it was certainly working. The Assassin was already on the back foot, seemingly looking for a way out of the car and into the open, It had already done away with the sword, instead switching over to the shotgun it had used in their first encounter, taking precise aim at Ren, firing a shot that went wide and barely grazed him at most. The GREMLIN careened straight for the Assassin, sparking and whirring as it chased the Assassin out of the room and onto the train proper, with Jerry right behind.

Ren knew that the Assassin would fare better on open ground, but so would he. It was a risk he was willing to take. Ideally, Jerry wouldn't get himself killed in the meantime, but without physical contact, Ren wouldn't be able to leverage his Semblance to cool him down.

The moment Ren stepped out of the driver's cab, he was assaulted by light and sound, blinded and deafened for a solid five seconds. Instinct directed him to put his weapons up and back up, which was the smart call, as he felt something hit Stormflower, then sweep down and dig into his Aura above the beltline. By the time his vision had returned, the Assassin was aiming a blow directly at his heart, the only thing stopping the blade from striking true being Jerry's metal hand closing on the blade and pushing it towards the edge of the train. The Assassin reacted fast, bodily throwing Jerry to the side, and its sword with him. It seemed stunned that Jerry didn't let go, and the split second of indecision was enough for Ren to get his bearings, and launch his attack.

The first kick went high, catching the Chosen under the chin and launching Ren into the air. Something about him felt… _heavier_ than usual, so his attempt at a follow-up spin kick hit the ribs rather than the head as he'd intended, but the result was similar to what he'd intended, sending the Chosen stumbling back and giving him time to train his gun on it, firing a barrage directly into its chest and sending it stumbling back, now with plenty of weeping orange wounds to give it pause.

"Jerry?" Ren asked. "You good?"

"Fine!" the man grunted as he pulled himself to his feet, sword in hand.

"Good." Ren turned his attention back to the snarling Chosen, and braced himself. "We're almost done here."

* * *

Jaune was having a bad time. Not that his time on Earth thus far hadn't been a bad time up to this point, but this, in particular, was a very, _very_ bad time, mainly because, of all the Chosen to pick a fight with him and Roderick, they ended up with the one that could A) turn invisible, and B) break into their communications system.

" _You know, You can't hide from me in there,"_ it informed them smugly. _"Not if you want to get rid of me, that is."_

" _Do these guys ever SHUT THE FUCK UP!?"_ Eric shouted over shotgun blasts. _"Jesus CHRIST!"_

" _Focus, team!"_ Adam replied, _"clear 'em out and cover each other. Ruby and I are a bit occupied at the moment, cannot assist."_

"You know, boss, it would be a lot easier to cover you if I didn't have Aimbot dot exe out here trying to no-scope my ass," Roderick said, looking to Jaune. "You know where he is?"

"No idea," Jaune replied, as another one of the Chosen's bullets slammed through the wall of the train next to his head. He'd never been more happy to have gone to the bathroom before the mission than he was now.

"I think he's got us zeroed," Roderick noted, reloading his rifle. "He's had our number since he showed up, and we haven't even gotten eyes on him. One of us is gonna need to go out there and draw fire."

"I-I can do it," Jaune stammered, clambering to his feet. "That's a big gun, but I think my Aura can take it."

"You absolutely sure, Jaune?" Roderick asked, all the joking and joviality gone from his voice. "If you're tweaking out, I can give it a-"

"No, I got it!"

"Okay. Let's do this, kiddo."

Jaune nodded, grabbing a firm hold of Crocea Mors, and charging out the door. He raised his shield up to the right as the Chosen's gun fired, a peal of thunder in the moonlit sky, and as the bullet hit him in the back and punched deep into his Aura, he regretted his choice.

"Saw it," Roderick shouted over the din of the train as he practically _dove_ out behind Jaune, landing on his back and opening up with his magnetic rifle, rounds slamming into the back of the train car and very briefly causing the Chosen's camo to fail as it backflipped off of the train. "Shit, he jumped off."

 _"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going far. Tell me, when you made those GREMLINs of yours, did you really think that we hadn't given them a try?"_ the Chosen asked, before another shot rang out, this time from directly next to Roderick, revealing something underneath its feet. Roderick was barely able to roll away from the impact, and Jaune immediately turned his eyes to follow the once-again invisible threat.

' _Man, at least I can see the Grimm. This is bar-none the second most terrifying thing I've ever done. Deathstalker's always gonna be number one. Unless this guy has a Deathstalker, Please tell me he doesn't have a Deathstalker.'_

" _Not over there, boy,"_ the Chosen chided him, and another shot rang out, this time striking Jaune in the back of the head and sending him stumbling forward, only saved from falling off the train by the now-standing Roderick tackling him onto his side.

"This cargo platform's way too open. Next car!" Roderick ordered, and Jaune certainly didn't object, scrambling to his feet as the Chosen fired off yet another shot.

" _How we doin'?"_ Jerry asked, exhausted. _"Me and Ren got our man."_

" _Oh, did you, now?"_ the Chosen asked.

" _Yeah, and now I'm coming for your ass,"_ Jerry replied.

"We got hit a few times, but we're good! Trying to get out of this shithead's line of sight, he can turn fucking invisible!" Roderick stated, shoving Jaune ahead of him into a boxcar before following in himself. "Any bright ideas?"

" _Did you try-"_ Eric started.

"Yes, I already tried it and he got shot twice."

" _Damn. I got nothing. This guy here won't SHUT THE FUCK UP!"_

" _You dare speak to the Elder's Champion as if he were common chattel?"_ came the cacophonous ranting of one of the other Chosen, audible as if he were speaking on the comms himself. Evidently, Blake and Eric had gotten stuck with a really chatty one.

"I really feel for Blake and Eric right now. Larry, do you see this guy?"

" _Negative, his cloak's too damn fast. Every time I take a shot, he's already gone"_

"Damn. Just keep your eyes on us."

" _I feel bad for you, old man,"_ the Chosen said, _"I really do. All these years of shooting defenseless civilians, and you can't even hit me when I have my back to you."_

 _"I'm going to massacre you, you piece of shit,"_

Lawrence stated, as calmly and matter-of-factly as if he were noting the weather.

"Don't let him get in your head, Larry!" Roderick warned, before turning back to Jaune. "I think I got an idea. Jerry says he cleared his guy, so I'm gonna have the Gremlin come around, act like we're wounded to keep him in place. When the Gremlin comes, it'll be in night ops mode, so it'll have its thermals on. He'll see the displacement from whatever he's riding on, and we can take a shot at it when Jerry calls it out. You catchin' me?"

"Yeah," Jaune said, "I think I got it. What do you need me to do?"

"Try to peek his ass again and get me a vector on him. I'll be right behind you."

"Got it," Jaune replied, turning to the front of the car. "Okay. Okay, I'm ready."

With that, he charged, this time bringing his shield up to the left. He saw the gunshot, way wide of hitting him, instead hitting the next car over.

" _Oops,"_ the Chosen grumbled, incensed. _"Wind's getting a bit testy."_

"Right in front of me," Jaune called out. Roderick was already on it, spraying fire at the Chosen. Jaune could vaguely see its silhouette shuddering and flickering as it attempted to line up another shot, but once again, it went awry, the rifle jerking towards the other train car right as he went to fire. Despite seemingly being more suited to distance fighting, this Chosen certainly wasn't a great shot.

" _There we go,"_ it muttered, firing again and once more going wide of his mark as Roderick continued to fire at him.

" _Roddy, you dumb son of a bitch, get back!"_ Lawrence shouted. _"Explosive!"_

"What?" Roderick asked, looking around to see the source of Lawrence's warning. "Wait, shit- Jaune, get-"

There was a loud bang, and suddenly, everything was _hot_ and _light_ and ringing ears and the smell of smoke. Jaune couldn't breathe, his chest ached, his body ached, his Aura was scrambling to repair the damage but he could feel blood running down his cheek, and all he could think about was _'is Roderick dead'_.

Jaune could dimly make out Jerry's voice shouting over comms, a loud back and forth with… Lawrence? It sounded like, and Ren asking something, sounding far more distressed than Jaune had ever heard him.

" _-ne? Jaune, say something, lad. Are you alright? What was that explosion?"_ Adam asked, sounding unusually concerned with Jaune's well-being. Finally, a nice surprise today.

Jaune managed to croak out a "Fine," before he realized how badly his throat hurt, and started to cough. He was on his back, a good distance away from where he'd been before, he was pretty sure, and a good section of the train car was just… _gone_ , blown away, as was the one that had been next to him just a few seconds ago, with nothing but twisted metal and flame to demarcate that it had ever existed in the first place.

' _Is Roderick dead? Please, tell me he isn't dead I can't do this alone is he dead is he dead is he-'_

"You really oughta watch where you're going, boy," said the Chosen that had been harassing him for the past 15 minutes. "Don't they have fuel tankers on your little backwater planet?"

Jaune didn't respond, instead frantically looking for Roderick. Still no sign of him. He saw some blood, but judging by how he couldn't really feel his legs right now, it could be his blood. Then again, his aura was working again, so maybe…

"Whatever. You're the prize here. I'm going to learn a lot from you, stranger. Don't put up too much of a fight, and I'll be done with you before you know it," the Chosen 'assured' him, putting his rifle on his back and grinning down smugly at him with shark-like teeth.

" _Catch,"_ said Lawrence.

A distant blast of magnetic rifle fire, and suddenly, the Chosen pitched over Jaune, a hole where his smile used to be, orange blood splattering on Jaune's face and on the floor of the train car next to him.

" _Jaune, you alive down there?"_ Lawrence asked. _"Can you hear me, son?"_

"Y-yeah. I can hear you. Roddy? Where's Roddy?"

 _"I can't see him from up here. Jaune, I… I wouldn't get my hopes up."_

' _No, no, no, no, no, it's not fair. He was a good guy. He actually treated me like a human being from the moment I got here, he never threw my stuff on the ground or tried to kill me or threatened me at gunpoint or had a meltdown because of my existence, it's not freaking fair he's fine, he's got to be_ _ **fine**_ _.'_

Jaune forced himself onto his feet, his legs trembling with the effort, but they managed. Good, that meant they were still attached. A voice in his head, one that sounded a lot like Pyrrha come to think of it, told him to check for his weapons, and he looked around for Crocea Mors. The shield was still on his arm, and the sword was laying off to the side uselessly. Jaune stumbled over and grabbed it, his hands trembling so much that it took a good three tries.

" _Hey, Jaune, I'm on my way, I can see you, Are you hurt, buddy?"_ Jerry asked, his tone stone-cold and emotionless. Jaune could tell he was focusing on what was going on, trying to get to him, and nothing else. _"Talk to me."_

"I can't find Roderick," Jaune said, the trembling in his hands extending up his arms as he frantically looked around the car. "I can't find Roderick."

" _Jaune, buddy, focus on my voice. Listen to me. Are you hurt? You're not gonna be any help to anyone if you're hurt."_

"I can't find him!" Jaune protested. He couldn't see any good reason to worry about him, he was fine, he was fine, he just needed to find Roderick.

" _Jaune, listen to me-"_

"I'm fine! I can't find Roderick!"

" 'm over here!" came a weak, near-airless groan from the front of the car, behind the mangled metal. It was Roderick, all right. Jaune bolted as fast as he could trust his shaky legs to carry him, and then immediately had to hold in the urge to throw up.

Roderick had dragged himself up to a sitting position against a large hunk of train, based on the thick streak of blood that rose from a pool laying in the doorway. His armor was practically peeled off in multiple places, exposing the bodysuit and skin underneath, most of which was at the very least cut. There was a large hunk of metal dug deep into his right shoulder, and a massive, heavily bleeding cut on the left side of his head, just past his eye, and that wasn't even getting started on The Hole.

Capital 'H' hole, because the hole in Roderick's chest was big, the armor around it was burnt, and Jaune could see something moving under it. Something was _moving_ under a hole in his chest.

"...Roderick?" Jaune asked, his tone warbling to the point where Jaune barely even registered that was what he said.

"Hey, pal," he wheezed. "Kinda hard to breathe. It's bad."

Jaune immediately moved next to him, trying to see if he could stop the bleeding somehow. He couldn't. He didn't remember anything about first aid and he wished Professor Peach was here to walk him through it, but it probably wouldn't have mattered because Roderick didn't have an Aura.

Jaune was going to watch him die.

He was going to watch a human being _die_.

"Hey, look at me man, come on, I know it looks bad, but at least look at me."

Jaune looked up at a slightly-smiling Roderick—how in the Brother's name could he _smile_ at a time like this— who just seemed to be blissfully unaware of the fact he was going to die. Or at peace with it, looked sorta similar on Jaune's end.

"It's fine, man, go on. Firebrand'll get me," he attempted to assure Jaune, but it didn't work. Jaune felt frantic, dropping his sword and shield and doing what came instinctively. He pressed his hands to the Hole, causing Roderick to scream in pain.

"S-sorry!"

"Fuck, just stick your fist in there, why don't ya?" Roderick grunted, gritting his teeth. "Nothing you can do, man. Where's Jerry?"

"He's c-coming, but you're gonna die if I don't do something!"

Roderick attempted to shrug. "And you've got a job to do. Quit wasting time and get moving."

Jaune's Aura was starting to flare up, his fists flexing and unflexing as he tried to stop the bleeding. Roderick protested again, Jaune's Aura flared even brighter, and he kept pressing, even when Roderick was screaming in pain and blue light was starting to crackle across his skin- wait.

Blue light?

* * *

' _Aw, shiz, he's big',_ was the first thought to come to Ruby's mind when she saw the newest arrival to the train. After a rather Yang-worthy pun about breaks/brakes, he'd sort of just… stood there and dared one of them to attack him.

Adam, respect to him, had taken him up on that, and Ruby couldn't help but be impressed by the fact that the two were currently manhandling each other all over the train while Ruby attempted to exploit openings and take potshots at the big guy, but there was a really glaring problem that it didn't take a genius to notice.

Crescent Rose wasn't doing _jack_.

Every bullet, every slash, seemed to do absolutely nothing to faze the Chosen. Not even Adam's really, REALLY powerful-looking punches and kicks came close to staggering it. Adam was at the point where he'd used that orange serum stuff he'd used to beat up Jaune and Pyrrha, and even then, it wasn't doing much other than making him harder to hit.

"Gotta admit!" The Chosen bellowed through laughter, "This is the best fight I've had in _ages_! Still, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to cut this short. Seems like my younger siblings can't do the job right. I'm just going to-"

"Oh, you're goin' fuckin' _nowhere_ , bruv!" Adam shouted back, sliding between the Chosen's legs and coming to halt at a knee in front of him, firing both of his pistols directly into its facemask, to no effect. Ruby swept in immediately after, flying straight into-

The Chosen's arm, as he performed a jumping lariat to Ruby in midair that, unlike Eric, caused her a lot more pain than it caused him.

"As I was **saying** -" Ruby could hear it continue through the ringing in her ears as she flew off the side of the train. The rest faded as she flew, and she idly wondered how fast the train was going .

Not faster than her, definitely, but she couldn't help but be a bit curious.

Ruby shot forward like a speeding bullet, rose petals cascading in her wake as she rapidly outpaced the train, coming to a halt in midair and entering a death spiral as she measured herself. The Chosen had grabbed Adam by the neck, but Adam's attention was solely on Ruby, and his hands had gone from his pistols to grab at the ridges on the alien's armor plate.

Ruby instantly figured out what he was thinking, and the question of if she was faster than the train was replaced by the question of what the heck she was supposed to call this team attack, or if there was a name for it at all, but regardless, she knew it was going to be _awesome_.

As Ruby clutched the trigger of Crescent Rose, a mere second away from coming down with the force of a dive-bombing Nevermore, Adam roared, using all of his enhanced might to shove the Chosen up onto his shoulders and into the air, throwing a kick that made Ruby's leg ache in sympathy as the Chosen flew directly towards her. She fired Crescent Rose, her spiral becoming a straight descent downwards, her blade immediately crashing directly into the Chosen's hands and digging deep enough to draw blood, as it spun in midair and spiked her down onto the train.

That wasn't awesome.

Adam, a bit hobbled by his kick attempt gone bad, was instantly on the offensive, looking to use his grappling hook to toss the Chosen off of the train, but that backfired too. The Chosen reeled him in like a fish on a line, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him back down hard enough to dent the metal. If Ruby wasn't already low on aura, winded, and dazed, she'd have winced at the sight.

"I'm getting really tired of you people," the Chosen muttered, freeing one arm from Adam's neck and extending some sort of firearm from his wrist. "Time to put you to-"

Once again, the Chosen was interrupted, but this time, it wasn't by Adam or Ruby. A voice Ruby knew well called out from above them.

"Catch!"

The Chosen didn't catch, instead barely rolling off of Adam in time to avoid Harbinger impaling him from above, the blade landing a bit too close to Adam's head for comfort. The moment she saw the sword, Ruby's slam-induced delirium faded, replaced instead with spine-tingling delight and the knowledge that everything was well in hand.

"Uncle Qrow!" she shouted, springing up to her feet like a shot from a gun as she grabbed Crescent Rose, just in time to witness the veteran huntsman's expert landing on top of his own sword.

"Jesus, fuck, there's another one," Adam groaned, exasperated.

"And you're complaining, why?" Qrow asked, before looking over his shoulder. "Stay back, squirt. I got this."

Ruby was more than happy to oblige this one time. Just the once, though.

The Chosen rose to full height, cracking its neck in anticipation. "Finally. Just like old times."

Qrow raised an eyebrow as he stepped off of Harbinger, and grabbed the sword.

 _"Hey, uh, Adam. Did you see that bird? The one that just turned into a guy with a sword?"_ Lawrence asked.

"Oh, I bloody well saw him," Adam grumbled, pulling himself to his feet as the Chosen took a running start after Qrow, with Qrow doing nothing in response until the Chosen was practically within spitting distance. When it threw a punch, Qrow ducked under, slamming his sword into its torso and sending it stumbling back, firing whatever kind of guns it had on its wrist, green beams of light arcing past Qrow as he fluidly dodged each one, before making a long, looping slash that hit the back of the Chosen's legs and brought it to a knee.

"That's my Uncle Qrow!" Ruby explained, still riding the emotional high. She'd been a bit unsure of this whole Earth adventure since the beginning, but she'd gone along with it because it was the right thing to do, and she'd be danged if JNPR went and stuck their necks out alone. With Qrow here, though, that meant they could do this for sure- they had a real, experienced Huntsman on their side.

This Chosen guy didn't stand a chance.

Qrow swung his sword like a bludgeon, the blade striking dead center of the Chosen's armored chest and caving the armor in, sending it flying back a good few feet as Harbinger shifted into scythe mode and charged after him. It rolled to its feet and fired some sort of rocket at Qrow, who, completely unperturbed, spun past it and swung for the fences, hitting the Chosen right on the neck, before firing his shotguns and cleanly removing its head with the recoil.

"Well," Qrow muttered, looking at his alien blood-soaked clothes. "Damn."

Ruby couldn't help but cheer, rushing her uncle and throwing herself onto his back in a vice-like hug that Qrow returned with a chuckle.

"You okay, kiddo?"

"Doing fine!" Ruby replied.

Qrow turned, Ruby still latched onto him, towards Adam. "Your ride better get you out of here quick. Looks like these guys brought backup in case you got lucky."

Adam's eyes widened, and his hand immediately went to comms. "Everyone, rendezvous on my position. Firebrand, we've got wounded, get down here, and be bloody snappy with it. How we doing, lads?"

 _"All good. Think that Chosen fucker got in my head, but I'll be fine,"_ Eric responded.

 _"Clear,"_ Ren followed.

 _"Jaune just did some kinda weird voodoo magic shit that saved my goddamn life,"_ Roderick replied, and Ruby couldn't help but be surprised too, even if she didn't know what 'voodoo magic shit' was.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Adam muttered, pulling himself to his feet and nodding at Qrow. "Adam Jones, XCOM Menace Team."

"Qrow Branwen," Qrow replied as Ruby hopped off of him, still in disbelief that he was even _here_. "Huntsman. Oz sent me."

"Who's Oz?"

Qrow sighed, looking towards the Skyranger. "I'll explain on the way back."

* * *

 **A/N: Finally, some content.**

 **Got a few things to iron out- firstly, I have a twitter you can follow to get in touch with me and get status updates on the story. It's factor_shock if y'all wanna give me a follow.**

 **Secondly, I'd really like to hear from you guys, especially in the coming few chapters. Things are about to get wet and wild in the best possible way, thanks to my beta readers, and I can't wait to hear all of your reactions to the wild shit happening.**


	37. Chapter 37

"Holy shit," Roderick muttered, staring at his hands. "Holy shit."

Holy shit indeed.

Roderick was never a particularly religious or spiritual man, but he was quite superstitious. He had a strict routine, wore a particular set of socks for good luck on every operation, never smoked anything that wasn't a menthol ice, and he certainly didn't count on miracles.

Which is exactly why the miracle that just got thrown at him floored him so damn hard. The hole in his armor plating was big enough to make Jerry squirm, and yet the wound was… stabilized. Jerry still had to field dress it and it would probably take a while for him to be fighting fit again, but the dull blue glow around his body made it clear that _something_ was going on.

Something that Jaune did.

"So, I guess we finally figured out your Semblance!" Ruby stated, all smiles and cheer. The Skyranger ride had been mostly morose, with Roderick simply staring at his new 'Aura' while Jerry stewed and Eric rubbed his temple.

"Yeah," Jaune agreed, his voice still quaking. "I guess so."

"Am I glad you fuckin' did," Roderick said, leaning back in his seat. "I was seeing the light and everything."

"I'm just glad you're okay," Jaune replied, offering a weak smile.

"He ain't okay yet," Lawrence said, looking at the bandaging on Roderick's chest. "That there's a nasty wound. Should be dead, by all rights, and he was walking on spaghetti legs."

"Yeah, but I'm walking." Roderick shrugged his shoulders. "That's what matters to me."

"Amen, hallelujah," Eric agreed, wincing. "God, my fucking head aches. The guy dancing with me and Blake did some… weird psionic shit, I dunno. What is it they do with that brain shit?"

"He probably tried to put you under mind control," Adam explained, his eyes still focused on Jerry, as they had been for most of the ride. The man had been… _uncharacteristically_ nice when they'd first mounted up, specifically thanking Jaune for his contributions before moving on to the rest of them. They'd all been a bit thrown by that turn of events, but once everyone was on board, his attention was on Jerry. Roderick knew the medic well enough to know why. He'd told Grace this wasn't above board, and he'd been proven right.

"Bloody pikers'll make you shoot your own guys just to put you in a damn Catch-22," Adam continued. "Takes a tough SOB to shake that shite off."

"Yeah, well, they make Deltas hard as fuck," Eric said, smiling through the pain. "Fuck with my head, I fuck with yours."

"Still reckon you should get checked out when we get back home, Eric," Lawrence said. "Would rather you not go 'Manchurian Candidate' in my space."

"Alright, Larry, alright."

"Jerry, are you okay?" Blake asked, leaning over Eric's shoulder to look at the man in question. "You've been quiet."

Jerry flexed his metal hand open and shut a few times before a quiet, "Thinking."

"Thinking about what, kemosabe?" Roderick asked.

"Nothing in particular."

"Don't think that's how it works," Roderick replied, leaning back in his seat. "But, be that way, I guess."

Jerry didn't reply. Roderick wasn't sure he wanted to hear exactly how he would word his 'thoughts' if he did. Even with the kids back and giving Jerry something to be hopeful about, the chipper, up-beat medic he'd met in the old days was gone, replaced by a far cagier, nastier man, and Roderick wasn't exactly sure what said man was going to do when he got a hold of Grace alone.

"Home free, boys!" Firebrand called. "Thank _fuck_ , I never wanna see another train again."

"You and me both, sister," Lawrence muttered. "Y'all young folk get out of my damn way, my old bones have had enough of this crap."

"Age before beauty, Hamilton," Adam jibed.

"I got you beat on both."

"Oh, the hell you do."

The mood finally started to lift, if only a little, as the Skyranger made its landing approach. Though he'd certainly been done a rather frightening turn by the operation himself, Roderick felt pretty confident now that he apparently had an Aura, and it seemed that the rest of the team, sans Jerry, shared his positivity. Still, the lack of positivity from the man in question unnerved him.

Upon landing, Grace and Bradford were waiting on deck, and 'Qrow' landed behind them, effortlessly shifting from bird to man.

"That's still creepy," Eric said.

"Well, I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Frost," Adam replied, standing up while motioning back for Lawrence to exit. "Take five, all of you. You earned it, 'specially you, Rod."

"Yeah, I'll sleep for days after that," Roderick agreed, rolling his shoulders. "Gonna get Jauney here nice and slammed as thanks for casting Lay on Hands or whatever the fuck it is he did."

"Um, thanks, but I-" Jaune started, only for Roderick to extend a hand and cut him off with a grin. He wasn't gonna let the kid get out of this.

"Nope. You and I are gonna have a nice, enjoyable afternoon. Jerry, you're in too."

"Not happening," Jerry replied as Lawrence shuffled past him. "Busy."

"Oh, busy with what?"

The moment Lawrence was off the boat, Jerry immediately followed, making a beeline straight for Grace. Roderick's smile fell, and despite every bone in his body telling him to go intervene, something told him there was gonna be no stopping Jerry until he got it out of his system.

He just hoped it ended well.

Besides Jerry pulling aside Grace and giving her an earful, reembarking on the Avenger had been entirely uneventful. Jaune hadn't stuck around to hear what the medic had to say, or even talked to anyone else. He needed to relax, get his bearings.

He had a Semblance, now. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he knew he had it. It evidently allowed him to share his Aura with others around him, though exactly what that would mean for his team was a mystery. For Roderick, though, it evidently gave him one. Jaune may have been starting to get used to the differences between him and his new comrades-in-arms, but that was still a rather new one.

He'd found the room set aside for Teams RWBY and JNPR upon their return, and settled in, sinking into the couch and letting out a deep exhale. He was sore, especially on his back and chest where he'd been shot, but thankfully that was the full extent of his injuries. Roderick's were far worse—bad enough that he was diverted from Jaune almost immediately and sent to the medical bay.

Jaune was relieved beyond words he'd survived. Still, his nerves were fried. He felt like he could sleep for days. In fact, he might start now-

' _Or not'_ , he thought, as the door opened to reveal… his partner. Pyrrha was practically glowing when she met his eye.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked.

"Nah, I was just trying to relax, what's up?" he replied, sitting up as Pyrrha took a seat next to him.

"I heard the good news, Jaune. You saved Roderick's life and unlocked your Semblance, if Adam's description holds true. He was… unusually complimentary of you."

"Really?" Jaune was incredulous—sure, Adam had been a bit nicer on the ride home, even told him he'd done a 'bang-up job', but he didn't actually think the man would say that to anyone else.

"Really," she assured him. "He called it, and I quote, 'fucking brilliant'."

Jaune snickered beside himself. Pyrrha cursing was probably one of the weirdest things he'd ever heard, and up there with the funniest.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Just… those words sound so wrong, coming from you, is all," he explained, returning her smile.

She rolled her eyes in response, though her own smile remained. "Jaune, please. I'd say the same thing, if in less vulgar terms. You've grown so much since initiation, more than anyone would have given you credit for back then. I'm very proud of you."

The sudden shift in her tone caught Jaune off-guard. True, he _did_ unlock his Semblance, but from what he'd learned from a bit of perusing on the internet, that wasn't even his doing. They just sort of… show up in stressful situations, or at least that's what he'd read, and there was nothing more stressful than a guy you consider a friend bleeding to death in front of you while you can't do anything about it. He couldn't even control the flow of his Aura, it went on and on and on until Jaune realized what was happening and removed his hands.

"I didn't really do anything," Jaune said. "I was just in the right place at the right time."

"And you wouldn't have been there if you hadn't chosen to come back here," Pyrrha retorted. "You're a better leader and a better fighter than you believe you are, Jaune, and you're only getting better every day. I'm glad for my part in that, but it's _you_ who had to make these strides. Don't discount your efforts, not when you've come this far already."

Her smile had faded, and it was just now hitting Jaune how close she was to him, his hand in hers and their eyes locked. It was… well, pretty intimate. Also, a bit intimidating.

Pyrrha seemed to notice shortly after he did, her cheeks tinting slightly as she released his hand and retreated slightly. "I, erm, I'm sorry."

"No, no, you're fine," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I couldn't have done this without you, and I mean that. Ren and Nora too. If it was just me over here, I'd have gone crazy, but because you guys are here, I can keep my head up and keep going."

"I feel the same, Jaune, and I'm sure that Ren and Nora do, too. We're a team. We take care of one another, right?"

"Right."

About a minute of silence followed, neither of the partners quite willing to break it. Jaune, personally, had his mind going in a few different places at the moment, mostly regarding that moment a few minutes ago, where Pyrrha's hand and gaze met his and they just… sat there. It was weird. Good weird. Like, 'maybe I'd like to do that more' weird.

His hand idly drifted across the couch, and hers met him halfway. She'd evidently had the same idea.

 _'I've got a lot to unpack here, don't I?'_

"So, Mr. Branwen, here's my question to you," Zeke said, leaning over the bar and examining him with narrowed violet eyes. "You… turn into a bird?"

"Yeah," Qrow replied. It had become obvious very quickly that 'Earth' was a totally different ballpark than Remnant. "I turn into a bird."

"And how long have you been flying around our men without letting us know?" Bradford asked. "You followed the kids here?"

"Mhm. My boss wanted to make sure they had a professional watching over them if they were gonna risk their necks to help you."

Bradford frowned, folding his arms and turning to Grace for some kind of direction. Qrow's surveillance had been mostly outside of the vessel, and occasionally sneaking aboard to make sure the kids were alright, and from what little he'd seen, the crew looked to her for leadership, despite the fact that she generally looked about as lost as any of them did, especially right now.

"Nice of him to think of us," Adam stated, sarcasm oozing from his voice as he turned his full attention to Qrow. "You didn't answer the question. How long have you been here?"

"Since the kids came back. I followed 'em," Qrow stated, nonchalant.

"And you didn't give us a hand before now, _why_?" Adam asked.

"Got a cover to maintain, friend. Only reason I jumped in when I did was because you guys couldn't win that on your own,"

"The situation was well under control."

"Didn't look like it from where I was standing."

"We appreciate any help we can get, Branwen, but you'll have to understand, one of my men nearly died," Grace interrupted. "Jones has a right to be a bit testy, in my opinion."

"I can't help but agree with him," Zeke followed, folding his arms.

"Look, I'm here now, and I'll help where I can. That bein' said, I don't know what the hell kind of help you need." Qrow cut his eyes between the soldiers in front of him one by one. Rather a hostile crowd, other than Grace. He might as well try to make himself useful, ease the tension. Would be a lot easier to keep an eye on the kids if their eyes weren't on him. "What's the latest?"

"Well, the Chosen just came down and mushroom-stomped us so hard that Braddock's gonna be feeling it for about a month," Zeke explained, before motioning to Grace. "That being said…"

"We just got word before you and our team arrived. We've located one of the Chosen's base of operations, and we have reason to believe that she has one of my men captive. We're gonna be hitting her stronghold head on once we've recouped from this operation and are better prepared. We still have other operations that require our direct attention, though- maybe you could help us with that?"

"What kind of operations?" Qrow asked.

"Looking for the other ones," Adam replied. "There's four of the Chosen bastards, and even one of them is too many. The more we can knock out as soon as possible, the less risk there is on our future operations. Problem is, once we take out the Assassin, the rest will start playing a lot harder to get. The faster we can pinball from one to the other, the easier it'll be to take them down."

"We have a lead on the location of the Warlock, one of the other three Chosen," Bradford stated. "If you want to pitch in, we need a point team to investigate. Would be nice to have a bit of assistance."

Qrow nodded. "I can do that. If need be, I can go ahead and fly out to whatever coordinates you give me straight away."

"Won't be necessary, it's not a long ride. One of my men has a car, he'll be bringing us out," Adam explained. Get sorted and meet me outside." 


End file.
